tk
by Laddie252
Summary: ...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 4  
By eleven o‟clock that evening, Royal had retired upstairs  
to her apartment. Rain tattered at the windows and  
thunder shook the foundation outside, but inside she was so  
very comfortable that she barely paid attention to the bad  
weather. After showering, she crawled in her bed to watch  
reruns of the Family Guy and eat Ben & Jerry‟s ice cream out  
of the box.  
The diamonds Dmitry had given her that afternoon inspired  
her to also purchase a pair of French lace panties and  
bra that a year ago would have paid for her tuition. She lay  
in bed now wearing them and enjoying the very exciting,  
uneventful life that she had only recently acquired.  
During a quick commercial break, she jumped up and  
dashed out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, when  
the doorbell rang. She stopped in her tracks and looked at  
the large wooden doors.  
In the last month that she had lived there, the doorbell  
had never once rang. Now, when it was not supposed to be  
ringing for any reason, it was. She looked down at her lack  
of clothing and sighed.  
"Who is it?" Royal asked. Agitated, she peered out of  
her peep hole.  
"It‟s Dmitry," Dmitry said, leaning against the door.  
"Who else would it be?"  
Royal wondered if Dmitry ever stood all the way up.  
Every time that she saw him, he was leaning on something,  
like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.  
Slowly, she opened the door just enough to see his face.  
He looked down at her and smiled softly. "Hello, Royal."  
His minty breath floated down to her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
38  
"What do you want, Dmitry?" she asked, looking him  
up and down. He was soaking wet. His blonde tendrils  
were trenched in rain and his body made a small pool of  
water under him.  
"I‟m here to take you out," he reasoned, trying to catch  
a glimpse of whatever she was hiding behind the door.  
"What?"  
"Your exact words earlier today were that I could take  
you out, but not with my girlfriend," he smacked his lips and  
raised his eyebrows. His accent was even heavier now that  
he had been drinking. It was almost impossible to understand  
what he was saying when he spoke quickly. Finally,  
he stopped his rambling. "Hey, what are you wearing in  
there?" His train of thought jumped when he saw bare  
skin.  
"None of your damned business," Royal said, moving  
away from the door. "Well, I meant that you could take me  
out at a decent hour, not now."  
"What‟s wrong with now? You don‟t look busy," he  
leaned down further to her and smiled. "There had better  
not be anyone in there." His voice was deep.  
"Of course not. Stop being stupid."  
"Only you would think that was stupid," he shook his  
head. "Okay, then why won‟t you go out with me now?"  
"It‟s too late at night," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.  
"For whom?"  
"Me." Royal tried to keep from laughing. "What happened?  
Did your girlfriend get tired of you?"  
Dmitry rolled his eyes. "No, I got tired of her. I sent  
her away, and she is not my girlfriend for the umpteenth  
time." Dmitry sighed. "Royal, I want to come inside and  
sit down. I‟m drunk. This hallway is not…"  
"Not what?" She pushed the door up a little more.  
Dmitry's Closet  
39  
"Accommodating." He wiped his tired eyes.  
"No," Royal said, watching him as he walked to the  
stairwell and slid down the opposite wall to sit on the floor.  
"Fine. I‟ll sit out here and sleep at your doorstep like  
dog," he yawned.  
"Fine with me," Royal said, as she closed the door and  
locked it, but from her peep hole, she could see that Dmitry  
did not move.  
She snickered. He was so pitiful and so dramatic. He  
deserved an Oscar for his performance. She started to leave  
him there until morning but decided to slip on a pair of  
jeans and t-shirt.  
When she was fully dressed, she opened the door to  
find him snoring lightly.  
"Wake up, sleepyhead. I thought that you said that you  
wanted to go out?" She locked her door behind her.  
"Yeah," he wiped his watering eyes. "I‟m up…ready."  
Getting up off the ground, he stretched his long body  
and moved out the way so that she could get to the stairs.  
He followed her down to the back door, where she found  
Anatoly standing out in the rain with a large black umbrella  
waiting for them.  
"You‟ve been waiting here the whole time?" she asked  
horrified.  
Anatoly did not speak to her or blink. He simply raised  
the umbrella to cover her body from the rain and escorted  
the two of them to Dmitry‟s limousine.  
It really did not bother Royal that Anatoly would not  
answer her. He rarely spoke. At first, she thought him to  
be a mute, until once she heard him speaking in Russian on  
his cell phone. After that, she decided that he simply didn‟t  
speak English.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
40  
Once they were inside the limo, Royal sat across from  
Dmitry, curiously looking at his outfit. He was in a tailored  
black-tuxedo. She was in jeans. Where could they go as  
mismatched as they were?  
"So, tell me what happened," she demanded, reaching  
over into the distinctively expensive French silver-plated  
bronze & brass champagne bucket to open the unopened  
bottle of Louis Roederer Champagne Cristal Brut Rose.  
She looked down at the bottle impressed. This was at least  
at $500 bottle, yet he kept it stocked like it was Red Bull.  
"Night ended early," Dmitry said, smiling at her. His  
dimples were not deep but long and showed only when he  
smiled. His face was covered in a fine five o‟clock shadow  
of dirty blonde stubble, but it only caused him to look more  
rugged and sexy.  
"Did you not tell her who you were? And how happy  
she should be to be with you?" Royal mocked him.  
"She knows who I am; I sent her away," he said slowly,  
over articulating his words. "I was bored, and I wanted to  
be with you."  
"You‟re so full of yourself," Royal said, shaking her  
head.  
"It‟s true," he rested his arm on the armrest and rubbed  
his stubbly beard.  
"I bet," she scoffed.  
"You think I‟m harmless, don‟t you?" Dmitry leaned  
forward soaking wet from the rain. His long legs stretched  
across the limo like a black spider.  
"No." Royal poured them both a glass of champagne,  
unmoved by his question. "I‟m sure that you‟re trouble,"  
she said, offering him the glass.  
Dmitry's Closet  
41  
"If you only knew," he said, sitting back after he had  
taken the crystal flute from her. "Spasiba." He thanked her  
in Russian.  
"Enough about you, Dmitry. Where are you going to  
take me?" Her long body sat relaxed in the black leather  
seat opposite him, mirroring his own entitled demeanor.  
"Where do you want to go?" He took a sip of the  
champagne.  
"It‟s pouring rain." She tapped her finger on the door as  
she thought. "Ummm, how about to the movies?"  
"What is with you and movie theatre? Is this the only  
thing you enjoy?"  
"Yeah, it‟s the thing that I enjoy," she said, mildly excited.  
"There‟s nothing like a good movie."  
Dmitry gave a curious stare, but Royal could not tell  
what he was thinking. "Anatoly, take us to my house. I  
need to get dressed for Royal‟s movie," he said finally.  
"Uh uh," Royal protested. "You can wear what you  
have on. I‟m not going to your house," she said, shifting in  
her seat a little, suddenly uncomfortable.  
"You don‟t really expect me to go to movies soaking  
wet, do you?"  
Royal thought for a minute, tapping her foot as she debated.  
"Fine. I‟ll wait out in the car while you go change."  
"Who said that you were invited in? I don‟t need help  
dressing." Dmitry shot her a stare. "Someone that thinks  
very highly of themselves in this car tonight."  
"Call it what you want to Dmitry, but I don‟t go to  
strange men houses in the middle of the night so they can  
get dressed or undressed."  
Dmitry laughed at Royal‟s inability to control her complete  
discomfort with the thought of him. He pealed out  
of his wet tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned the top of his  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
42  
collar. The cold clothes stuck to his body and wet white  
shirt showed the defined muscles under his many layers of  
fine dressing along with a plethora of tattoos that Royal  
would have never guessed were there.  
"Я должен иметь секс с вами теперь," he said raising  
his eyebrow at Royal.  
"What did you say…speak English," she snapped.  
Dmitry smiled. "I should get naked right now, just to  
see how you react to what grown man looks like." His eyes  
twinkled in the darkness.  
"That‟s not what you said. I tell you what. You will be  
out of this car, Dmitry, if you take off one more thing,"  
Royal said, in a matter-of-fact tone, pointing her finger at  
him.  
"You know, Royal. You are very sexually frustrated. I  
can tell. You‟re always scared that someone will steal your  
precious gift." He looked in between her legs and licked his  
lips.  
"Ooh. Uh uh. Not an appropriate conversation," Royal  
said, closing her legs. "I‟m gonna need you to stop worrying  
about my sex." She rolled her eyes and tried to repress a  
broad smile.  
Dmitry was funny and arrogant. It was a preposterous  
mix, but it made being around him constantly exciting.  
"It‟s just that I‟m worried about your overall happiness,"  
he whined sarcastically. "Happy employee is productive  
employee."  
Royal leaned forward, taking the power from Dmitry  
and using his same mannerisms to drive her point home.  
"Poor Dmitry. Do you consider sex to be happiness?"  
"Do you?" Dmitry asked, finally having fun with Royal.  
He waited on baited breath for her to liven up; now here  
was a glimpse of it. The woman hiding inside of the shrew.  
Dmitry's Closet  
43  
"No. I don‟t consider sex to equal happiness," she said  
curtly.  
"Nyet?"  
Royal smirked. "No. Happiness cannot be defined by  
such a physical pleasure when happiness itself is so abstract  
– so intangible."  
"Well now. Look at little philosopher. I never said that  
I considered sex to be happiness, I asked if you did."  
Dmitry chuckled.  
"What do you consider to be happiness?" Royal was  
finally curious.  
"Control." His tone was sincere.  
"Control?"  
"Did I stutter? Such a thing is also intangible." He half  
chuckled.  
"That‟s just such an S&M answer."  
Dmitry laughed. "Your choice of words amuses me.  
Okay, maybe it‟s the loss of control. Either way, the control  
is going to land in someone else‟s lap."  
He leaned further into her, close enough to smell the  
sweetness coming from her breath and the heat eradiating  
from her body. He wanted to suck her scent into his  
nostrils and grab her, rip her clothes from her limbs and  
take her in the back of the limo, but he settled for thumping  
her nose.  
"What do you know about anything, eh? You‟re  
girl…and barely that," he whispered.  
Royal‟s smile quickly crooked, and she snatched back in  
the corner of the seat. Dmitry could see it. She was incensed.  
She wanted to tear him limb from limb for mocking  
her, and he really didn‟t care. Anger was closer to sex  
than glib calmness.  
"I‟m not a girl," she said, defensively.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
44  
"Of course, you are," he said, patronizing her and enjoying  
every minute of it.  
"I am a grown woman!" she protested.  
Her ponytail and the soft hair flirting around the nape  
of her neck and the front of her ears caused her to look  
more like a teenager than a woman in her twenties, but the  
excitement that caused her blood pressure to rise and her  
nipples to harden seemed more sinister to Dmitry than  
child‟s play. He licked his lips.  
"Calm down, Royal. I‟m just fucking with you," he said,  
sitting back, happy to have gotten a rise out of her.  
He stopped smiling. His face was like wet ice, glistening  
and chiseled. He rubbed his hands through his blonde  
wavy curls and raised his eyebrow at her. "But you don‟t  
like to be fucked with, do you?" He breathed calmly.  
There was complete silence for a moment.  
"No," Royal said finally, realizing that there was something  
off about Dmitry. "I don‟t."  
The car stopped, and Royal found herself in front of  
large white Plantation-style home. Anatoly parked quickly,  
jumped out of the car and opened the door for Dmitry with  
the umbrella eagerly awaiting his demanding boss.  
"Are you sure that you want to stay in car?" Dmitry  
asked, before he got out.  
"Positive," Royal said, looking at Anatoly curiously,  
wondering if he did everything that Dmitry told him.  
"Well, I‟ll only be minute." He stepped out of the car  
and stopped. Leaning back in, he smiled cleverly. "Should I  
wear jeans for your movie, Royal?"  
"If you‟d like," Royal said absently.  
"See, the control thing isn‟t so bad is it?"  
Royal smiled but didn‟t say anything. Anatoly closed  
the door softly, and she sat back in the car feeling sleep  
Dmitry's Closet  
45  
overtake her. She wished now that she had stayed in the  
bed.  
She listened to the storm rock the city with wind, heavy  
rains and lightening as she waited. Curiously, she looked  
out the window across large gated lawn undisturbed by the  
late night rumblings. Security guards with dogs walked the  
perimeter of his property even in the rain, while Anatoly  
stood on the porch watching her and waiting for Dmitry.  
Rich people, she thought as she sat back in her seat. They  
are so freaking dramatic.  
She closed her eyes finally and relaxed her head on the  
leather, feeling the warm seats caress her body. She had  
nearly gone to sleep when Dmitry arrived back. As the  
door opened for him, rain quickly rushed inside, dampening  
her face. He jumped in with a pair of dark jeans and  
a blue v-neck top, looking the most casual that Royal had  
ever seen him.  
"Hope I wasn‟t long," he said, taking a swig of the Foster‟  
s beer that he carried with him.  
"Actually, I dosed off there for a minute." Royal sat up  
in the chair. "You look…great. Like a walking Ralph  
Lauren advertisement." She nodded.  
"A compliment? It seems that we are making progress,  
Royal," Dmitry said as he tapped her knee. "Anatoly, let‟s  
go," Dmitry instructed keeping his eye on Royal. The car  
started, and they pulled off.  
Royal watched Dmitry curiously but did not speak.  
"I‟ve called in favor to have Paradiso movie theatre all  
to ourselves tonight. It closes in hour. I was hoping that we  
could have dinner at restaurant first and go over there for  
late showing of whatever you want to see," he offered  
checking his Blackberry.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
46  
"After it‟s closed? Are you serious?" She grabbed the  
phone from him and put it into the side compartment of  
her seat. "Stop with that phone. It‟s weird a.m. hours.  
Can‟t whomever it is wait? You are the boss, remember?"  
"Fine, but only if you take off tomorrow. You work  
too hard anyway. People probably think it‟s me working  
you, but it feels like the other way around. Just…just hang  
out with me tonight and spend tomorrow in the bed or  
doing whatever introverts like you do."  
"Alright," she sighed, giving in. "I haven‟t been to your  
restaurant since I was hired. I‟m excited. And I never have  
had a movie theatre stay open just for me. That‟s pretty  
cool."  
"You should come over to restaurant more and have  
lunch or dinner. It will save you money."  
"Okay," Royal said, moving her long hair from her face.  
Dmitry smiled deviously. "You should sit over here  
with me and let me kiss your lips too," Dmitry said scooting  
over. He rubbed the leather seat.  
"What?"  
"Just kidding," Dmitry said quickly. "Hey, you were  
saying okay to everything… had to try."  
They both laughed, but Royal did not move from her  
seat. In fact, she sat with her eyes directly on Dmitry  
watching his every move.  
They arrived at the restaurant soon after. Dmitry had  
arranged for his staff to stay late and cook a huge Russian  
meal for Royal. The two of them ran out of the rain from  
the car, while Anatoly pulled the limo to the back.  
They were met at the front door by two red-headed  
young waitresses, barely in their twenties, dressed in all  
black and holding menus. As Royal ran in, she stopped  
amazed at the romantic transformation.  
Dmitry's Closet  
47  
Dmitry had a single, intimate table set up in the back  
with a beautiful golden candelabra full of blood-red candles,  
golden table settings and a large bouquet of red roses. The  
rest of the restaurant was covered in candles as well.  
Royal turned to Dmitry for an explanation, but he only  
smiled and escorted her to her seat with his large hand  
placed carefully at the base of her small back. He sat her  
down in the seat, pushed her up to the table and kissed her  
forehead.  
The staff scurried about ensuring that everything was  
perfect, while Dmitry went behind the bar and brought  
back two glasses and a bottle of champagne.  
"More Cristal?" he asked, raising the bottle.  
"Dmitry, what is this about? Why could this date not  
have waited? It‟s raining cats and dogs out tonight, and  
you‟re frolicking around like its noon and sunny."  
"First of all, I do not frolic. I thought that we had this  
discussion. Secondly, time waits for no man – not even me.  
This afternoon you agreed to go out. I thought about it all  
day after. I couldn‟t even focus on my evening. So, I  
cancelled. I…didn‟t want opportunity to pass, and so I  
came for you. End of discussion."  
"All this for your shop girl?" Royal asked, impressed.  
"My shop girl is best girl that I know."  
Royal appreciated that. Her smiled showed it.  
"What are you thinking about?" Dmitry finally asked.  
"I wonder… how old you are?"  
He laughed. "How old do I look?" He stared in her  
eyes as he sat across from her.  
"I don‟t know. I want to say that you‟re in your thirties."  
"Barely. I‟m thirty-nine," Dmitry informed her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
48  
"That old?"  
"I don‟t consider that old."  
"Of course, you wouldn‟t," Royal said, smirking. "So  
let‟s flip the script, shall we? Tell me. Why don‟t you have  
a family?"  
"I have my reasons – most of them deal with my lifestyle,"  
he looked up at her and paused, stopping his sentence  
in mid thought. "You and I. We are very much a  
like, eh?"  
"No, we‟re not." Royal continued. She could clearly  
see he was hiding something. "You never talk about a  
mother, father, sister, brother. No one. I never see you  
around anyone except Anatoly and the men from the shop.  
You have no wife, no steady girlfriend…"  
"It‟s funny that you don‟t have any of these important  
people either."  
"Yeah, but I was an orphan for most of my life. Then a  
family adopted me, mostly because they need a babysitter.  
When I turned eighteen, I went to college, and I only call  
them now once a month to check on them, because I think  
that is what family is suppose to do. Otherwise, I have no  
one. I‟m alone in this world. Now, why don‟t you?"  
"Same story, really, different time. Well, I grew up in  
Moscow on streets. The people there became my only  
family. When I came to America as young man, I was a lot  
like you. I had no time for anything that was not delivering  
immediate profit."  
"You never knew your mother, either?" The rest of  
Dmitry‟s statement was lost on Royal.  
"Barely, she died when I was very young. Then, I went  
to prison very young."  
"Oh, I‟m sorry," Royal said, realizing his story was as  
pathetic as hers. "You know, I‟ve never had either, but I‟m  
Dmitry's Closet  
49  
willing to bet that it‟s harder to grow up with out a mom  
than a dad?"  
Dmitry didn‟t answer. It was if as such a thought had  
not crossed his mind either way.  
Royal continued. "What about your father?"  
"I only know what I was told about him by men in prison  
and on streets. From what they say, he wasn‟t worth  
talking about."  
"What did you go to prison for?"  
"I was thief. Moscow gets cold in winter. I had to  
make life for myself at first. Besides I only spent a few  
years inside. Not so bad."  
"Not a thief by choice, then. You had to survive."  
"I moved passed simply surviving by the time that I was  
15. I‟m afraid that I just enjoyed it. What about you? Have  
you ever been to jail, Royal?"  
"No. I‟ve been close." Royal bit her lip. "It was a petty  
domestic dispute when I was a teenager. My foster mom‟s  
boyfriend tried to feel me up in bathroom one night, so I  
cut his ear off."  
"Petty?" Dmitry laughed. "Rape is hardly a petty  
crime." The thought of Royal being raped infuriated him,  
but he tried hard to conceal it.  
"What was worse was that I had to get the damn cops  
to believe that it was actually attempted rape and assault.  
He said that I wanted it." She shook her head. "He was  
such a jerk. I had to show them the choke marks around  
my neck to prove that I wasn‟t lying."  
"He choked you?"  
"In truth, he was kicking my ass, but I got a hold of the  
scissors and managed to cut him." She formed her fingers  
together like a pair of scissors and smiled.  
"What was his name?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
50  
"Woodrow Conners," she chuckled. "Such a lame  
name."  
"Here in Memphis?"  
"Yeah."  
Dmitry was silent for a minute.  
"Really, I‟m okay. I‟ve got thick skin," she continued.  
"What did your foster mother say about you nearly being  
raped by her boyfriend?" he asked, intrigued.  
"Not much in my defense. She had me removed. I finally  
ended up with the Stones. They were just a family that  
needed someone to help them with their four biological  
children- all under the age of ten."  
"So, you went from sex toy to nanny." He sighed.  
"Oh, I never was raped," Royal quickly added. "I protected  
myself always from that at all costs. I‟m still a virgin  
to this day." She was proud of that fact.  
"Excuse me?" Dmitry‟s eyes bucked. His mouth hit the  
ground.  
"I‟m still a virgin. I just haven‟t met the right guy, and  
I‟ll be damned if I give it to the wrong guy."  
"Yes. That would be crime. Well, I‟m…amazed and  
shocked." Dmitry shook his head. "It explains a lot, and  
yet…nothing makes sense."  
"Well, I wouldn‟t spend too much time thinking about  
it, if I were you. It‟s not going to change anytime soon."  
"Of course not." Dmitry smiled innocently, but inwardly  
a raging fire boiled inside of him. Royal was a virgin.  
The words caused a small stir. The thought of taking her  
would be ever present in his head now, he was sure of it.  
Royal felt as though she had said far too much. Dmitry  
became quiet, thinking probably about how much of a girl  
she was - so very young and inexperienced. But as far as  
she was concerned, that was not at all true.  
Dmitry's Closet  
51  
The only thing that kept her from carrying the title of  
woman in a lot of people‟s eyes was the fact that she was yet  
a virgin.  
To her, that made her more of a woman. Self-control  
was not an easy beast to tame, but she did so, even if  
sometimes begrudgingly.  
Royal‟s virginity had been the topic of many conversations  
before Dmitry, but her status had never changed.  
Every man seemed to have one thing on his mind. To take  
it, but not to keep her. She did not want to end up unloved  
again, only this time with nothing to show for it. And it  
seemed that every time that she exposed her secret, she felt  
like she was a leper.  
People had looked at her like something was wrong  
with her her entire life, jealous that they had given theirs  
away and had chosen poorly. She had lost so many opportunities  
with young college men because of her fear of going  
all the way. She was not afraid of the act, just the aftermath.  
She knew very well what it felt like to be all alone and  
rejected, she didn‟t need to amplify it. The thought infuriated  
her now. She bit her lip and grunted slightly.  
"Ugh. This silence is going to make me sick at the stomach,"  
she said finally. "I didn‟t tell you that I had AIDS,  
Dmitry. Please don‟t act like that."  
"Act like what?" He looked up at her oblivious of her  
mood change.  
"Like I‟m not normal," Royal sighed.  
Dmitry put down his fork and smiled. "But you‟re not  
normal. You are better," he said trying to focus. "Alright.  
Alright. We‟ll talk about something else."

Latrivia S. Nelson  
52  
It was nearly four in the morning when Dmitry‟s car  
pulled behind Royal‟s building beside her little red Honda  
Accord. He had chosen to drive her home himself after the  
movie.  
Anatoly was finally allowed to go home and get some  
rest. The rain had stopped and the skies were clear, allowing  
the stars and moon to shine brightly down on them.  
Crickets chirped and dew fell on the grass. The wind blew  
through the night, refreshing and full of force. Royal  
yawned and sat up in the seat, hitting the button to let up  
her window as she did so.  
"I had fun," she said rubbing her eyes. "Did you?" She  
looked over at him, relaxed in his seat and looking over at  
her curiously.  
"It was theeee most civilized date that I‟ve been on in  
many years," he said, opening the door of his car, but not  
answering the question.  
He walked around to her side and helped her out carefully.  
She stood up in front of him and smiled. Dmitry‟s  
height continued to leave her in awe as well as the enormous  
size of his well-sculpted body, but what was most  
amazing to her was that in the dead of summer, he wore  
long shirts.  
He looked down at her, gazing into her bright brown  
eyes.  
"So you were bored out of your mind?" she asked. "Or  
did you have fun."  
"Dah, dah, I had fun with you, shop girl," he said, finally.  
He moved in closer to her body.  
"You‟ve got a five o‟clock shadow," she said, touching  
his stubby beard, and only inches from his bulging chest.  
She had to say something to break the ever-growing desire  
to kiss him.  
Dmitry's Closet  
53  
"I‟ve been up since day before yesterday. Guess I  
should get some sleep." Reaching behind her body, he  
closed the door and grabbed her hand, escorting her up the  
back steps of the building.  
Exhausted, Royal fumbled for a minute, then opened  
the door with her key. Its jingling chain echoed throughout  
the small parking lot. Dmitry walked in after her, checking  
the place as he heard her small feet creep up the back  
staircase to her suite. When he was sure that they were  
alone, he walked up behind her. She was standing in the  
doorway of her apartment waiting for him with a soft smile  
and an innocent glow.  
He swaggered over to her, stopped at the doorway and  
leaned liked normal against the threshold.  
"Promise me that you won‟t work tomorrow. I want  
you to rest," he said, looking down at her breasts. It was  
odd to him that they had never been suckled as succulent as  
they seemed. He found that his mouth watered just at the  
thought of what they must taste like. He looked back up at  
her with a grin. He knew that she could tell what he was  
thinking.  
"I‟ll rest. Promise." She sighed, then yawned - very  
happy at the moment. She knew now that he would try to  
kiss her, and she braced herself for it, hoping to make it  
through.  
"This is the part of date where you invite me inside of  
your home, and I rip you apart under the sheets," he  
whispered jokingly. His icy eyes looked directly into hers  
causing a funny thump of her heart.  
"Sorry, I‟ll have to pass." Royal‟s voice was soft and  
sweet. She pivoted on her feet a little, trying to gain inches  
on her tip toes.  
"I‟m not surprised, now that I know your secret."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
54  
"Enough with that," Royal gawked, dismissing his new  
fascination with her sexual status.  
"Alright, alright." His voice became softer.  
Stepping closer to her, Dmitry reached out and pulled  
her by her small waist into his body. His large hands  
caressed her warm body and searched for bare skin. She  
looked up at him and wrapped her arms around his lower  
back, then closed her eyes.  
Tenderly, Dmitry leaned over and kissed Royal on the  
top of her forehead. Ever so softly his full lips caressed her  
caramel skin. He breathed in, taking in the scent of her  
body. It took everything in him not to lift her up, carry her  
across her threshold and make love to her. Having never  
been told no or wait, he was no good at being obedient. He  
desired her more than anything; he wanted her so badly  
until it was physically painful for him to release her. Soon,  
he thought to himself.  
Evidently, even she was expecting much more. She  
opened her wide eyes, surprised by his choice and exhaled.  
Royal could nearly read his eyes. It was if he was telling her  
that he had to stop. She understood but didn‟t want him  
to…so she thought.  
With a nod, he headed back down the stairwell quietly,  
leaving her unspoiled and in the safety of her home. He  
owed her that since Woodrow Conners had tried to take it  
from her.  
In a daze, Royal leaned against the door flabbergasted.  
Just when she suspected that he would strike like a villain,  
he behaved like a gentleman.  
When Dmitry heard the door, he smiled and shook his  
head. "Royal is virgin," he sang aloud, smiling to himself,  
happy that he had discovered such a treasure.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 5  
The grand opening of the Dmitry's Closet was an undeniable  
success. Nearly two hundred of Memphis‟ affluent  
women came to the opening. The event was complete with  
the cutting of a splendid red ribbon, a few words from the  
area councilman and tons of champagne, strawberries, great  
cheeses and caviar beluga for the guests. And best of all  
despite the warnings from the local meteorologist, it did not  
rain giving everyone a clear, not-so-hot August day.  
Royal had used all of her textbook skills to attract the  
local newspapers and reporters by giving them gift bags full  
of free but expensive gifts all hand picked by her and her  
new staff of two. Dmitry was also extremely impressed  
with the entire event, receiving constant praise from his new  
patrons, who not only loved the selection but the presentation.  
By seven o‟clock when the doors closed, they had made  
thousands of dollars and a big splash with the new boutique.  
After counting down the drawer and giving the money  
to Anatoly as previously discussed, Royal and her team  
cleaned up the boutique and prepared to head over to the  
Mother Russia restaurant, where Dmitry had arranged for a  
celebratory dinner.  
It had been an excruciating month for Royal, full of lastminute  
details to work through, promotions to pull together  
and fine clothing to inventory, but things had worked out  
better than her wildest dreams. She was a success. Her  
hard work had paid off literally. And most of all Dmitry  
was happy with her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
56  
"The limo is here to pick us up, Royal," her assistant,  
Renée said, grabbing her purse. "I can‟t believe he is  
sending over a freaking limo!"  
"Yeah, that‟s pretty sweet," Royal said hurrying.  
Renée was a young, energetic neo soul sister from Atlanta,  
who rocked a large, very pro-black afro and large gold  
hoop earrings. She was a dark, short, petite woman with  
tons of retail experience and new to the city. Royal hired  
her on the spot during their interview, feeling a strangely  
familiar kinship with the woman. Her other assistant Cory  
was young man who had come highly recommended by the  
councilman, Mr. Avers, who had also spoken at their grand  
opening.  
Cory was a clean cut, attractive young white man with a  
very small, but muscular frame. Dmitry had questioned her  
choice for him, but she knew that it was only because he  
was a man. Cory was extremely professional and kind and  
his ultimate goal was to one day own his own shop. She  
thought his ambitions to be admirable and decided after  
several days and a few conversations with Dmitry to hire  
him as well.  
The three of them loaded into the limo quickly and  
were escorted a few streets over to the restaurant, where a  
small group of Dmitry‟s friends and colleagues waited.  
When they arrived at the restaurant, a traditional Russian  
band was playing and the entire place was covered in festive  
crimson decorations. There were tons of expensive wine,  
fine Russian vodka, traditional Russian food and of course,  
caviar.  
Once, Royal had inquired why caviar was a staple in  
Dmitry‟s life. He explained that he was part-owner of a  
caviar company near the Caspian Sea.  
Dmitry's Closet  
57  
Naturally, she said shaking her head when he had informed  
her of yet another business he owned.  
"Ah, there is my little shop girl," Dmitry said, picking  
Royal up and whirling her around.  
His festive spirit made Royal light up. She hugged him  
as tightly as she could, relishing in the moment.  
"Wasn‟t today, great? I…I couldn‟t believe it. So many  
people came to the opening," Royal said as Dmitry sat her  
down. There eyes were glued to each other. His hands were  
glued to her tiny waist.  
He finally spoke, breaking out of her spell. "Dah…dah  
today was great…was reflection of you, eh?" He waved at  
the waiter. "Bring her a big glass of wine. I want to get her  
as drunk as possible." He gave a wide grin then took Royal  
to the head table.  
"Did you do all of this for us?" She looked around in  
amazement.  
"No, I did all of this for you," he whispered in her ear,  
as he pulled a seat out for her.  
Dmitry had flirted with Royal many times but ultimately  
kept his sexual ambitions at bay after their date. Royal  
thought it was because he felt that she was too inexperienced  
for him, but Dmitry was a business man. He had  
left her alone to ensure that she would focus on his shop  
first. He knew that there would plenty of time for his other  
plans.  
However, they still continued to spend many days and  
evenings together planning for the grand opening, which  
Dmitry enjoyed immensely. It gave him an opportunity to  
get to know her on many levels, something that he found  
quite refreshing in a woman after many years of dealing  
with empty vessels.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
58  
Every day, she would always reveal something newer,  
something brighter to him. He found himself impatient to  
get to the boutique, to hear her voice and see her face.  
Royal was fascinating to him in every way that a woman  
could be fascinating to a man. A hard worker. Honest.  
Loyal. Pure. He could never have asked for more in  
whatever she had grown to be to him.  
Royal had also been enslaved by Dmitry. He was not  
only beautiful but incredibly wise. He gave her so much  
advice on how to run the business and how to be savvy  
about all her negotiations with vendors. He explained the  
market to her and how to stay on top of it. She was his  
ever-faithful pupil.  
"Could I have your attention, please?" he asked, standing  
at the head of the long, decorated wooden table. He  
clinked the gold knife on the crystal glass and cleared his  
throat.  
As he raised his glass, the room quieted to a dead silence.  
All the chatter stopped, and the band put down their  
instruments. Royal looked around, astonished at how  
people snapped to his command. All eyes were glued to  
him and his eyes were glued to her. The attention made  
Royal incredibly self-conscious. She fidgeted a little as she  
tried to look at him and not at all the people who were now  
focused on the two of them.  
His voice reverberated throughout the large restaurant  
like a microphone had been placed below him. Eyes  
sparkling under the romantic lighting, he turned to Royal.  
If she had believed in Prince Charming, she would have  
sworn that he was him.  
"I would like to make toast to Royal Stone and the hard  
work that she and her team have put into making my  
newest shop a great success. I am very proud of her and my  
Dmitry's Closet  
59  
own decision to keep her so very close. She has truly  
become…asset," he paused and smiled at Royal. "So,  
tonight we celebrate a new part of my vision and welcome  
Royal to the family. She has my blessings, and I‟m sure all  
of yours. Budem everyone!"  
"Budem!" everyone replied at once, toasting Royal and  
her staff.  
Instantly, the music began again and the ginger chatter  
resumed. Royal was happy in that fact. Now all eyes were  
not on her, but she could still feel a few burning through  
her back. She turned slightly to observe. Around them sat  
several men that she had never met before but who were  
most definitely Russian and wealthy. All of them were  
adorned in expensive suits, shoes and polished accessories.  
With them were women of the finest breed – beautiful,  
exotic beneficiaries of fine living.  
Near the end of the table were Renée and Cory eating  
and laughing, both enjoying each other‟s company and their  
new found success. Royal observed everyone while she  
sipped on her wine, feeling a small buzz as she neared the  
bottom of the glass. She smiled to herself feeling more  
apart of something than she had ever felt before. Suddenly,  
a warm hand crept across hers, and she looked over to find  
Dmitry. His bright eyes were fixed on her.  
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.  
"I‟m wonderful," she said, holding back tears. She  
clinched his hand tightly. "Thanks for all of this. It‟s  
beautiful. I‟ve never had anything like this done for me  
before." Her voice was nearly a whisper.  
"Get used to it." He waved over the waiter for more  
wine. He could see her wide brown eyes start to relax. Her  
long lashes flopped lazily and the tension had started to  
come out of her erect posture.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
60  
"You feel relaxed yet?" He ran his large hand over her  
shoulder and massaged her back.  
"Umm, yes," she said empting her glass. She wiped her  
lips gently with her finger tips. The wine perfumed her  
breath and hazed her thoughts.  
Dmitry watched her, still smitten by her small perfect  
movements. He looked away for a moment and smiled to  
himself.  
Royal looked over and caught his smirk. She raised her  
brow and set down her glass. Used to his idiosyncrasies,  
she knew sex was on his mind.  
"Can you manage to keep that mind of yours out of the  
gutter, Dmitry?" she asked slurring her words a little but still  
in control of her thoughts.  
"You‟ve now gone from shop girl to mind reader?"  
Dmitry laid his long arm around her chair and her exposed  
back like a boa constrictor and let his thumb rub against the  
bare skin of her back.  
"It doesn‟t take much to read your mind." His movements  
aroused her.  
"If that were true, I‟d be out of business." He smirked  
again showing his long dimples.  
"It‟s not that. I‟ve just had more time to know how to  
read you."  
She met his eyes and swallowed hard as he leaned in.  
"What am I thinking right now? Tell me exactly. Each  
and every word."  
"You‟re thinking you want to give me a raise," she said  
smiling.  
He grinned. Her humor continuously renewed him.  
"You have proven yourself to be quite the remarkable  
woman," he said softly. "I have watched you transform  
Dmitry's Closet  
61  
from this diamond in the rough to…Hope diamond.  
Irreplaceable. Irresistible. Irritating." He smiled.  
She laughed.  
"Jeez, don‟t set the bar so high," she whispered.  
The band played in the background, hand organs bellowing  
out beautiful Russian music. He smiled. "Dance  
with me?" he asked, urging her from her seat. His hand  
caressed her back.  
"Alright." Royal stood, placed her napkin in the chair  
and followed Dmitry to the quaint, candlelit dance floor.  
Again she could feel the many eyes burning through her.  
They all watched her like spectacle she was. It would have  
driven her crazy if Dmitry had not continued to steal her  
thoughts.  
He turned to her and bowed gracefully.  
"May I have this dance and every other there after?"  
He winked at her.  
"Yes, but I have to warn you, I tend to lead."  
"So you‟ve danced with many seven foot men, huh?"  
"A couple," she grinned. "Okay. You‟re the first, but  
don‟t let it go to your head."  
"Too late," he hummed. "If I was foolish enough to  
omit observation earlier…you look absolutely beautiful  
tonight."  
"Thank you." Royal smiled. "You do too."  
Dmitry looked regal in his black tailored suit, cut for his  
large lion frame. As normal, there was nothing out of place.  
His hair was just the right shade of blonde, his tan just the  
right shade of bronze, his eyes just the right shade of blue  
and his lips just the right shade of pink. Even more was his  
intoxicating cologne – a signature fragrance that she had  
never smelled before meeting him, but could not forget.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
62  
He dipped his head to greet her, ever so gentle and refined  
in all of his movements. As he took her small manicured  
hand in his own, he pulled her close into his towering  
body. She slipped her hand in between the tailored shirt  
and satin on the inside of his jacket; gripping his marble  
body and feeling the heat come from under his clothes.  
Their bodies fused together.  
Seeing Dmitry swaying softly, the band instantly  
stopped their upbeat tune and started a more romantic  
melody. The violins harmonized, tickling her ears with  
delicious sounds. She smiled at him as he looked down at  
her.  
"What are you thinking now, Royal?" he asked as they  
swayed.  
"They don‟t sound nearly as good as you do, when you  
play."  
Dmitry grinned.  
Softly, she laid her head against his body and felt his  
arm tighten around her waist. The guests looked on as the  
two danced, somehow moving with every step further into  
their own world, where no one else existed. Her eyes closed  
as she danced dizzily with the harmony of the music. He  
nearly hid her from the others with his massive frame. She  
felt safe in his embrace, protected by his presence.  
The other guests soon began to move to the dance floor  
as well, partnering up to join in the beautiful moment.  
Without words, the room spoke in volumes. There was love  
in the air, contagious, crazy love-even if it was just for as  
long as the band played.  
"I don‟t ever want this moment to end," Royal finally  
said, unsure of how Dmitry would react.  
"Umm….me either, shop girl," Dmitry hummed, holding  
her tighter.  
Dmitry's Closet  
63  
Minutes later, Anatoly appeared from the back room,  
dressed in his normal dark boot cut jeans, black boots and a  
black t-shirt. Obviously, he had not been invited or not  
accepted an invitation to the event. His hooded, brooding  
eyes were menacing and his walk forceful, each pace gaining  
momentum. Dmitry saw him from a far and stopped  
dancing. Royal looked over, sensing urgency as Anatoly  
approached. Her heart sank.  
Not now, she thought.  
"Excuse me for just a moment," Dmitry said, walking  
away, giving her no time to respond. She stood on the  
dance floor alone as the others danced. The mood changed  
quickly. Like a king at court, all eyes followed him as he left  
the floor, but it was Royal who truly felt like the jester.  
Anatoly spoke to Dmitry under a calm but urgent voice,  
gesturing something violent with his hands. Dmitry looked  
towards the front window and then back at the men on the  
floor and at the table. They all stopped talking and dancing  
and migrated collectively from their dates to circle around  
Dmitry and Anatoly.  
Dmitry said something to them, then they quickly dispersed  
out of the front door without bothering to inform  
their guests of their departure, then he walked back over to  
Royal, who stood clueless.  
"I‟m so sorry, Royal. It appears that I must excuse myself  
for just a while," he said, escorting her back to the table.  
His hand caressed the small of her back. "You should  
finish your dinner, and I‟ll return shortly, if I can." He  
pulled out the seat for her again. She sat down with a  
dumbfounded look on her face. Was he serious? He would  
just leave like this?  
"What‟s wrong?" Royal asked, concerned. "I don‟t understand…"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
64  
Dmitry interrupted. "A small problem with another  
business that I own," he said, a little irritated by her inquiry.  
He bit his lip and humbled himself.  
"How many businesses do you own?" There was no  
reply for her question. He simply pushed up her chair to  
the table.  
"I am sorry, Royal. Stay and wait for me as long you  
can." He kneeled down to make eye contact with her. "I‟ll  
return later. Enjoy the meal that I‟ve prepared for you and  
your guests." He rubbed the tip of her nose with his index  
finger and stood back up. He could clearly see the disappointment  
in her eyes.  
With an apology, he left the now nearly empty restaurant.  
His heavy footsteps echoed across the hardwood  
floor as he walked out without turning around. She watched  
his body disappear beyond the gilded glow of the  
decadent room through the front door that Anatoly held  
open for him.  
"And he‟s gone just like that," she said, absently.

Royal had managed to stay and wait, despite her bewildered  
embarrassment. She was like a birthday girl at a party  
with no guests. All dressed up and no where to go, she sat  
in the same seat that Dmitry had placed her in before he left  
and waited faithfully, obediently and most of all perplexed.  
As she sat talking to an old man, more than likely in his  
eighties about the various types of caviar and its history in  
Russia with royal families, the front doors to the restaurant  
opened suddenly, and Dmitry and his large entourage of  
men flooded into the building. They came in by the droves,  
filling the place back to capacity. They came in like nothing  
had happened, like there had been no interruption.  
Dmitry's Closet  
65  
Royal sat up and watched on like everyone else who was  
left behind. Each man found his date and settled down to  
talk and smile.  
Anatoly immediately disappeared into the back again,  
and Dmitry came in and locked eyes on Royal. As he  
passed them, the women, who were left behind in the  
whirlwind of urgency only hours before, looked up at him  
like hungry wolves each pining for his attention. But he did  
not look their way. His eyes were fixed on Royal, glad that  
she had stayed and waited for him. He zoomed in on her  
with an irate scowl on his face. His furrowed brow straightened  
as he approached the table. Royal noted the transformation,  
giving him a curious frown. What had he been up  
to?  
"I‟m sorry that I was taken from you for so long," he  
said, seriously. His voice was distant. He tried to regain his  
composure and get back the moment that he had clearly lost  
with her on the dance floor.  
"It‟s okay." Royal‟s smiled lacked all enthusiasm. "I‟m  
going to get out of here in just a minute, anyway. Have to  
get ready for tomorrow. I…can just walk over," she said,  
trying to hide her sadness. "Cory and Renée are going back  
with me. I just didn‟t want to leave before you returned  
considering all that you‟ve done for us."  
"Nonsense. I‟ll have you driven back over. Anatoly  
will take you."  
"Oh, I don‟t want to bother him."  
"There is no bother. As a matter of fact, Anatoly will  
stay at the store from now on, down in basement. It‟s not  
safe for you to be there alone. People know there are large  
sums of money at the shop now. I wouldn‟t want anyone  
to think they can take advantage. Someone has to be on the  
premises to protect you."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
66  
"I didn‟t know that the place had a basement."  
"A very nice one," he said, tasting the caviar.  
"How does Anatoly feel about this?" She watched him  
eat, frustrated at his quick commands and the fact that he  
was ignoring her discomfort. "I don‟t like this. Now, he has  
to uproot himself to stay with me. I don‟t want to be a  
bother. Maybe we can just get a security system or…"  
"Anatoly does as he‟s told. And he‟s been told to stay  
in basement and make sure that no one disturbs you after or  
before hours." He wiped his face and looked at her sternly,  
the full strength of his prominent bone structure obvious as  
he gritted his teeth. He picked up his wine and took a big  
gulp, most unlike him.  
"It looks like everyone around here does what they are  
told," she huffed. "Does anyone ever ask why? Because  
I‟m not the go fetch dog type."  
Dmitry noted her anger and possible hurt. He calmed.  
"I told you why," his voice was softer. "It‟s not safe."  
"You seem…different, Dmitry. Strange." She looked  
down at the table to control her own growing resentment  
and distress.  
Dmitry sighed. "I seem, because I am." He tried to  
lighten his forceful tongue. "Just... listen to me, Royal.  
Anatoly does not mind at all." He reasoned softly with her,  
smiling to make his point more agreeable for her. "The  
basement is nice enough. He‟ll be fine. You‟ll barely know  
he‟s there." He lifted her chin to see her face.  
Royal rested her case, realizing that Dmitry had come to  
his final decision. She nodded to him in agreement and  
gathered her things.  
"Well, thanks again for everything," she said, understanding  
that something else was bothering Dmitry. "I‟ll  
see you later."  
Dmitry's Closet  
67  
"Dah, you will," he said, making eye contact with her.  
Royal didn‟t respond. Dmitry stood up as she stood and  
escorted her quietly to the door.  
She stopped at the threshold of the restaurant with her  
jacket in her hands and her purse under her arm waiting for  
the to limo pull up to the front of the restaurant. It was  
amazing to her how in a couple of months, she had completely  
gotten used to having a driver, a limo and a staff of  
people.  
Renée and Cory stood behind them intrigued by the  
oddly-matched couple.  
"I‟m very proud of you, Royal," he reiterated with conviction.  
His large hands rested on her bare shoulders. He  
gazed at her for moment then motioned for Anatoly, who  
waited just outside of the door with the car. "You‟d better  
get out of the night air."  
"Is he my bodyguard now? I don‟t need a slave, you  
know." She rolled her eyes.  
"Think of him as your unofficial assistant." He ran his  
index finger down the side of her neck. "I will see you later  
to make up for having to depart from you so abruptly."  
Royal still did not respond. She just touched the softness  
of his face and walked away.  
Watching her and her staff into the car, Dmitry closed  
the doors of the restaurant behind him as they drove off.

Renée and Cory watched on as Royal sat beside Anatoly  
in dead silence. She was broken hearted and completely  
incapable of hiding it. Ignoring them all, she sat in her vneck,  
satin black Bagley Mischa dress, spoiled by the night‟s  
events. She had worked so hard to get dressed, to make  
him see her tonight. It was all in vain.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
68  
Her diamonds earrings sparkled in the darkness, weighing  
down her small lobes. Beautiful canary yellow diamonds  
laid close to her neck dangling from the gold necklace and  
created a spectrum of beautiful light every time a reflection  
hit them just right.  
Her newest diamond gift had come only days before  
and had been the largest so far in celebration of her recent  
accomplishments. In his normal fashion, Dmitry had kissed  
her only on the forehead and in return was allowed to place  
the necklace on her himself.  
She wore only the jewelry he had given her tonight. She  
wanted him to know how much she appreciated him. But  
how could she show him when he was barely there?  
Her smoky eyes were adverted to the window staring  
past tinted glass into the clear, dark night. Her glossy, pouty  
lips were pierced together, clinched by perfect white teeth.  
She was a picture of true beauty and true agony.  
While Royal sank into the leather drowning in her  
thoughts, Anatoly looked at her staff with a sort of disdain,  
never uttering a word, but making them very uncomfortable.  
Unsure if he was provoked by direct eye contact, Cory  
shifted in his seat and tried to keep from staring the husky  
brut in his pupils. They were always worried that perhaps  
Royal had forgotten to hook him to his chain.  
However, Royal had learned over the past couple of  
months to simply ignore Anatoly.  
He was like a permanent prop in her life. She was only  
inches from him, but they were miles away only connected  
only through Dmitry. His close proximity to her body did  
not bother her at all. She leaned against him as she pouted,  
absorbing his body heat and sulking profusely. He was like  
the personal assistant that she had grown accustomed to  
Dmitry's Closet  
69  
having around. It was a good thing too, especially now that  
he would be living in her hidden basement.  
Cory looked over at Renee with unspoken suspicion of  
Royal‟s relationship with the rich and powerful Dmitry  
Medlov. They had watched as he embraced her not only  
with his physical touch but his pulsating eyes every time he  
was around her.  
The mysterious couple was the constant subject of endless  
conversations when Royal was not around. Everyone  
marveled at the infinite number of expensive gifts that he  
showered upon her; the quiet conversations between them  
in the back office that would erupt into sudden laughter and  
the sexual tension that wrapped the store like a hungry fog.  
"Thanks for today," Royal said, trying to change the  
silent subject. A faint smiled came across her face, but she  
continued to pierce her lips, visibly worried. Moving the  
soft wisps of her hair from her face, she focused in.  
"Remember to be here tomorrow by nine. We open at ten.  
I want to spend some time meeting about today and  
ensuring that we have it all together for the rest of the week.  
It‟s all up hill from here." She gave a fake, almost disturbing  
smile.  
"Sure thing," Renée said, cocking her brow.  
When the limo pulled into to the back parking lot of the  
shop, Cory and Renee jumped out and headed to their  
respective cars before the chauffer could properly open the  
door. Each was trying desperately to get away from the  
glaring pit bull Anatoly.  
Ignoring them both, Anatoly got out of the limo before  
Royal and helped her inside of the empty shop.  
"Thank you," she said, not expecting a response. He  
did not. Anatoly was always quiet, not bothering to respond  
to any of her constant gestures of kindness.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
70  
He walked in front of her to check the shop as he had  
been instructed, while Royal stopped and looked over her  
office to make sure that she had left nothing out of place or  
unlocked. She was looking at a business card left by one of  
the women who had visited her earlier when Anatoly  
appeared in the doorway.  
He looked at her for a minute before he sighed. "I‟ll be  
downstairs, if you need me," he said, giving her the same icy  
stare as Dmitry. His eyes were a riveting cobalt blue shaded  
by layers of thick lash. His voice was a deep, silky baritone.  
Royal was startled. She had never heard him speak in  
English. His accent was even stronger than Dmitry‟s. She  
tried to suppress her sudden urge to ask him one hundred  
questions about their boss. Instead, she kept it simple.  
"Where is the basement?" she asked, trying not to look  
as shocked as she actually was.  
Anatoly walked pass her to the bookshelf, grabbed the  
large wooden furniture by its ends, grunted a little as he  
shifted the heavy oak and moved it further down the wall.  
There, as plain as day, was a door. He hit a code on the  
security system and opened the vault-like contraption.  
"You can buzz me from your place on the security system.  
Just hit 22#. I won‟t be here when you open or when  
you close. Just at night and early mornings."  
Royal shook her head in amazement. As normal, Anatoly  
showed no emotion and with a nod he disappeared  
behind the door and left her alone.  
"Well, I‟ll be damned. What else don‟t I know about  
this place?" she asked, taking her shoes off her aching feet.  
Letting her long hair down from its bundle, she slowly  
made her way upstairs to recover from a very tedious day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 6  
Steam billowed up creating a marvelous and aromatic  
fog throughout Royal‟s marble bathroom. To set the mood  
for a more relaxing late evening, she had taken some of the  
candles Dmitry had given her a few weeks ago and lit them  
around the bathroom and her bedroom. The luminous  
glow made her feel pretty or at least relaxed.  
To purge her thoughts, she connected her IPod and let  
the music blast throughout the apartment. Chris Cornell  
sang his heart out on his Euphoria Morning CD, and Royal  
hummed along.  
The hot water cascaded over her body, relaxing her aching  
muscles and drowning some of her more disturbing  
thoughts. Unfortunately, there were many of them tonight.  
She drifted into the haze for a while thinking of Dmitry –  
trying to figure him out. Her infinite questions consumed  
her.  
Did he really care about her at all? What if she was  
reading too much into their friendship all along? Dmitry  
was a millionaire with homes and businesses all over the  
world. He was beautiful and brilliant. And she was a broke,  
orphaned virgin with nothing to offer. Did he really take  
her seriously or was she just something to do for the  
moment?  
The steam curled her long hair dangling down her back  
and over her long caramel shoulders, cooking through her  
skin and interrupting her thoughts. She couldn‟t tell if it  
was the heat or her heart, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic.  
She wiped the water from her face and took a deep  
breath.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
72  
"Ugh, I need to get out of here," she said, turning off  
the violent water rushing from the showerhead.  
Wrapping a large terrycloth towel around her body, she  
opened the door to the congested bathroom and allowed  
the cloud to drift into her bedroom. Shivering, she dropped  
the fluffy towel and slipped on her short, black silk robe  
quickly, trying to minimize her exposure to the cold air  
blasting through the vents.  
Royal sat on the side of the bed for a moment, as still as  
could be in a daze. Her mind began to drift again, back to  
Dmitry. It had been so thoughtful to put on such a grand  
affair for her. However, she was pained by his unexpected  
interruption. And she was even more pained by his return.  
With Dmitry, she could never tell what was next. He  
was a spur of the moment type of man, something that was not  
always a good thing. What bothered her more was her  
growing connection to him. Was it possible that she was  
the only one who felt the strong, red emotions? Were all  
the smiles, kisses and compliments simply kind gestures of a  
seasoned man who felt sympathy for an underprivileged  
youth? Had she romanticized their friendship into something  
more because of her lack of intimate relationships?  
Her questions were endless.  
Blinking fast to push back the tears, she thought about  
the work that was still left to do and grabbed her notepad  
off the nightstand. There were other things to occupy her  
time with besides sulking. Things that had to be done.  
Feeling sorry for herself would do her no good. Dmitry  
was probably having drinks with his real friends at that very  
moment – not thinking about her.  
To change her dismal mood, she would make herself a  
cup of hot tea, sit in front of the fireplace in the living room  
and tweak her marketing plan.  
Dmitry's Closet  
73  
The thought comforted her. Work. It was the one  
thing that she could depend on to numb her senses and to  
remind her that there were things more important than silly,  
overrated emotions, like not starving to death or having a  
place to stay.  
Remembering what it felt like for her stomach to growl  
with no end, to have stomach cramps due to lack of food  
snapped her out of her thoughts of Dmitry. Grateful for  
evident and more importantly current blessings, she got up  
and headed to the kitchen.  
As she entered out of her bedroom, she looked across  
the large living room in its darkness to see Dmitry quietly  
sitting by the fireplace on the couch sipping out of a crystal  
goblet with his long legs crossed. He stared into the fire.  
Thinking. Brooding. Stunned, she stopped in her footsteps.  
Her heart pounded in her chest. She caught her  
fleeting breath and cleared her voice.  
"Dmitry?" she whispered softly.  
"Royal." He looked up from his glass but didn‟t move.  
His eyes focused on her.  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.  
Dmitry chose his words carefully, visibly fighting with  
himself over what to say.  
"Remember in restaurant, I said that I would see you  
later. Well, it‟s later," he said, putting down his glass.  
"Yeah, it is," she looked over at the clock. A quarter  
past midnight.  
He followed her gaze to the grandfather clock and  
sighed.  
"Sorry to come so late. It couldn‟t be helped."  
"What was so urgent that you had to come tonight?"  
"Don‟t you already know?"  
"If I did, would I ask?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
74  
There was complete silence. The fireplace crackled.  
"You know that you have money to burn when you  
have the air on and fireplace," he said, redirecting his  
sudden discomfort. "It is just like you, you know. To have  
two forces working in the same room at the same time to  
satisfy you, and you never even notice." A smile crept  
across his face as he looked over at the fire.  
"Did you come over to tell me to turn off my fireplace?"  
Royal snapped.  
"No." Dmitry looked over at her and sighed. "I know  
that messed up with you tonight. And I wanted to come to  
you before it was too late to mend." He smirked. "Tonight  
was supposed to be special. I wanted to talk to you about  
us now that shop is out of the way."  
"Us?" Royal‟s voice was barely above a whisper.  
"Dah, I want there to be an us. You can‟t tell me you  
don‟t know how I feel about you. Everyone knows. It‟s  
grown to be too difficult for me to hide."  
Royal bit her lip. So he did care. She was relieved, even  
without clarification.  
"I know how I feel about you, but I‟m clueless about  
how you feel about me," she confessed, voice quivering. "I  
haven‟t had much training in this. So, I‟m really confused.  
I don‟t know if you give me all this stuff and all this attention  
because you think of me as your pet or if you really like  
me or if you really, really like me."  
The darkness cloaked her face and the range of emotion  
that flashed over it, but Dmitry could detect her guard  
down without visibly seeing it. He stood up and walked  
over to her, towering over her. Taking her chin under his  
finger, he lifted her head where he could see her face under  
the moonlight shining in through the blinds.  
Dmitry's Closet  
75  
"Royal, I don‟t like you. I love you. There is big difference  
between the two."  
She looked up, tears in her eyes. Swallowing hard, she  
tried to control her beating heart. Dmitry‟s words sounded  
like an angel playing his harp.  
"Do you know how impossible that is to believe," she  
asked, blinking fast to push back her salty calamity.  
Dmitry was confused. Why would she not believe him?  
What had he done? Were the gifts and attention not a  
reflection of his growing admiration? He tried to simplify  
his thoughts, focusing on the primaries of their relationship.  
"Why is it so impossible for me to love a woman who is  
so innocent, so beautiful?"  
"Because I have nothing to offer you. And the one  
thing that I do have, I‟m so damned reluctant to give  
up…even though I want to." She made sure to clarify her  
desire. "Men like you are hard to read, Dmitry. You‟ve said  
it yourself. I don‟t want to sound like I don‟t have self  
esteem, but it‟s pretty hard to battle my shortcomings when  
everything comes up short against you."  
Dmitry was shocked and humbled.  
"But you are worth more than all of my possessions. I  
will trade everything for you. I mean, don‟t you love me  
even just little bit?" He had to know. His voice ached.  
"It would be impossible not to love you, Dmitry."  
"Oh…because of my money."  
"No," Royal shook her head adamantly. "Not at all.  
It‟s because you make me feel...special, like I‟m the only  
woman in the room. No one has ever made me feel like  
that."  
"You are the only woman in the room." He spoke softly.  
"Do you love me?" He wanted to hear her say it again.  
"Yes, I love you," she confessed with tears in her eyes.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
76  
Dmitry smiled like a new born seeing his mother for the  
first time. His suspicions had been correct. His timing was  
not off. It had been hard to come to her for fear of possible  
rejection and how it would affect their working relationship,  
but she had made is easier for him now. She loved  
him.  
"Would it be absurd to see yourself dating a man like  
me? I mean, I know I am older than you, nearly old enough  
in some countries to be your father, but…"  
"It wouldn‟t be absurd. I‟m just not fully sure what type  
of man you are, Dmitry?"  
Dmitry‟s eye twitched as if the answer was far too complex  
to explain, even to her.  
She shifted her weight to one side and put her hand on  
her hip. As she took a deep breath, Dmitry watched the  
swell of her breasts under her robe. In the sudden outpour  
of emotion, she had forgotten that she was naked with the  
exception of a small slip of silk fabric, but he had not.  
"I want you so bad it hurts," he whispered running his  
fingers over her collarbone. He watched her breaths  
quicken. She looked up at him wantonly, lips formed for a  
kiss. He could not resist her or the throbbing below  
controlling him, pushing him to have her. His fingers  
caressed her soft silk. Pulling her to him, he leaned down  
and grabbed her by the waist. He picked her firm, voluptuous  
body up in his arms and held her at eye level.  
She smiled at him.  
"So you‟ve broken in my house; we‟ve confessed that  
we love each other; you‟ve picked me up; I guess I know  
what‟s next."  
"Umm...are you afraid?" he asked, carrying her to her  
bedroom.  
Dmitry's Closet  
77  
"Yes," she nodded. She wasn‟t expecting for him to ask  
for her now. His sudden assumption, however, prevented  
her from backing down. In fact, she wanted to make love  
to him. That in itself was a foreign emotion to her. She  
had never desired someone the way that she desired him.  
"Don‟t be afraid. I make sure that you enjoy."  
Dmitry had never seen her hair down before and enjoyed  
very much how naturally beautiful she was. Smelling  
of vanilla extract, its mass fell down her back and around  
her shoulders in an inky, full mane. She wrapped her arms  
around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders while he  
carried her. The trip was short.  
The candles had created a beautiful aroma of sandalwood  
and jasmine and the large bedroom casted a romantic  
glow over Royal‟s body.  
"Are you sure that you didn‟t know that I was coming?"  
he asked amused.  
"This wasn‟t for you."  
"It is now."  
Dmitry sat her down on the bed carefully, marveling at  
the contrast of her dark skin and the monochromatic  
comforter. His liquid eyes looked almost silver in the dark;  
they barely blinked. Taking off his suit jacket, he kept his  
gaze on her. She lay in bed waiting for him, still covered by  
the silk robe, clinging to it nervously. Watching his every  
move, her eyes became bigger as he approached. Clothes  
still on, he crawled in between her long, shapely brown legs  
and rested his elbows beside her.  
"This is our first kiss," she said, voice quivering.  
"Umm…among other things." He raised his brow at  
her.  
Slowly, Royal lifted her head as she felt Dmitry‟s massive  
arms swaddling her like a blanket. She rested back in  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
78  
his hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. Like  
when they first met, they caught each other in a mesmerizing  
gaze – happy to have finally arrived at this moment.  
Still smiling, Dmitry dipped his head and carefully, slowly  
kissed the fullness of Royal‟s sweet lips. He met her wet  
mouth with a gentle greeting, tasting of wine and chocolate.  
She barely responded at first, but the more she smelled his  
cologne and felt his hard body between her thighs, the more  
her lips parted and her own body came alive.  
They wrapped themselves in a passionate embrace, synchronizing  
their kiss to move with the ebb and flow of the  
moment. Angelic. Erotic. Beautiful. She felt herself  
drifting away in a sweet euphoria of her own. Kissing him  
was like floating, like the first high of some dangerous and  
illicit drug. The inviting shape of his full pink lips drew her  
in more, and she moved past the initial shock of being there  
with him and began to kiss him deeper, stronger.  
He moaned a little as she opened up, exciting him more  
by the moment.  
Inhaling his cologne as he ran his hand down her stomach,  
she felt the robe open. His hands brushed against her  
hot skin causing her to gasp. A new tingling sensation ran  
through her.  
He caught her lips and kissed them again, releasing her  
only to push closer to her body. Her long thin fingers  
glided through his fragrant hair as she tasted his kiss, curling  
her fingers in his large blonde tendrils. It felt like cotton.  
"We‟ll go very slowly," Dmitry whispered, cupping her  
breasts in his large hands.  
Royal eyes opened wide. Excitement and urgency  
mixed like a strange medicine in her blood. Her heart raced,  
beating against his own like a drum.  
Dmitry's Closet  
79  
"Wait," she stopped. Planting her elbows in the bed,  
she glared up at him.  
Dmitry stopped and sat up. His eyes focused in on her,  
their diamond prisms flickering in the darkness.  
Royal took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She  
swallowed hard.  
"I…need a minute," she panted, pulling her long tendrils  
from her face.  
Moving from in between her legs, Dmitry ran his hands  
through his own hair, trying to calm the beast that had been  
nearly released in him. "Okay, baby," he said, allowing her  
to crawl out of the bed.  
"Just a minute," she said, lifting her index finger. "I‟ll  
be right back."  
"Alright," Dmitry said, watching her run into her bathroom  
and close the door behind her.  
Leaning against the wall, Royal looked at herself in the  
mirror. She wiped his kiss from her mouth and went to the  
sink. Running water over her face, she tried to stop her  
shaking hands. She was in complete shock. Peering at her  
reflection, she took the towel and wiped her face. Her  
cheeks were fire red.  
The weight of her actions consumed her. Twenty-three  
years of waiting and here she was about to do it. Her heart  
started to race again. The sound clearly audible through her  
chest. Twenty three years.  
God, please let me be making the right decision, she  
prayed silently. I hold on to it for twenty three years, but I  
meet this guy and in less than three months it‟s thrown all  
away because of some diamonds and money.  
She berated herself, but inwardly she knew that he had  
given her much more than material gain. He had given her  
true and utter happiness.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
80  
What if I do it wrong, she continued as she grabbed her  
toothbrush. What if I‟m just horrible at this? She opened  
the medicine cabinet and grabbed her toothpaste and  
deodorant.  
The climate was much different outside of the bathroom.  
Dmitry sat back on her pillows with his hands  
behind his head listening to her rattle through the cabinets  
and the water running. He yawned and pulled himself out of  
the bed.  
Pealing out of his clothes one slow layer at a time, he  
watched the door, waiting for her to finish her unneeded  
beauty regiment. Once he had pulled the covers back and  
put his clothes on her dresser, he heard the racket stop.  
The door slowly opened, illuminating the bedroom as  
she walked back out. She stopped at the entryway with the  
robe tightly tied around her waist. Perfume floated out and  
tickled his nose.  
Dmitry sighed when he saw her. She was absolutely  
breath taking. Her long hair was pulled up in a pony tail.  
Her caramel-colored skin while only slightly revealed,  
glowed in the darkness.  
She eyed him curiously as he stood up and walked to  
her.  
Royal didn‟t speak. She could not. Her eyes were stuck  
to his colossal naked body. Muscles rippled through his  
tanned skin from his neck down his long muscular torso  
pulsating with little intricate muscles in his stomach through  
his large shaped legs to his giant calves. Besides the perfection  
of his muscular frame, there were also many tattoos.  
There were stars, crosses, butterflies, words in Cyrillic. What  
did it all mean? She took his body in through her eyes and  
was now more nervous than ever.  
Dmitry's Closet  
81  
Realizing her inexperience, Dmitry gave her a reassuring  
smile. With a tender kiss on the forehead, he ran his fingers  
down her arms and grabbed her hands to pull her to him.  
Leaning down, he kissed her again, holding her face in his  
large hands. His sweet passion relaxed her. She felt herself  
melting into his embrace again, forgetting about everything  
including the large member that poked at her ribcage.  
Still kissing her, Dmitry pulled at her robe again. The  
soft fabric hit the floor and exposed her long perfect  
temple. Feeling vulnerable, she curved into his body and  
wrapped her arms around his neck. Her skin felt like the  
silk against him. He picked her up quickly and carried her  
back to the bed.  
"Are you ready now?" he asked, laying her down again.  
Royal sighed and touched her head. "I think so." She  
had a nervous smile on her face.  
Dmitry crawled into the bed, in between her shaking  
long legs and bent down to kiss the delicate crease between  
her hip and thigh. He ran his fingers down the length of  
her flat stomach, caressing her skin. Complete perfection.  
He marveled at her softness, the muse-like form of all her  
limbs.  
The scent of vanilla masked her skin and transferred to  
his lips. He tasted it, allowing his tongue to massage her  
gently. He could hear deep breaths as Royal watched. The  
bewilderment of his actions were visible in her bright eyes.  
He smirked. If she only knew how his excitement rivaled  
hers, it might have frightened her. It had been torture to  
see her and not have her for so long. Now that he did, his  
only hope was to control all of his desires – to be careful  
not to treat her like an experienced lover.  
Royal closed her eyes and laid back in the comfort of  
the pillow. She could hear his kisses as he made his way up  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
82  
to her breasts. His hot breath was like electric shock to her  
skin. She arched her back and reached out for him. As her  
fingertips touched his hard chest, he could feel her trembling,  
aching and afraid.  
Her large melon-shaped breasts sat up invitingly. They  
were soft and full, matching the wonderful curves of her  
exotic body. Dmitry looked at her, amazed at her perfect  
splendor. Hungry for all of her, he circled the tip her  
nipples with his lips then sucked her slowly. Royal moaned,  
biting her lip and gripping his skin.  
Cupping her breast in his hand as he kissed her lips, he  
nestled his hardness in between her legs. He growled a little  
as he felt her move under him, moving towards the mysterious  
phallic form. Instinctively, she opened her legs wider.  
It was amazing to her how statue-like his hard body was  
against her own skin. His stomach pushed against her as he  
kissed her passionately. The intimacy of the act created a  
wave of excitement that rushed through her when she felt  
him raise her left leg. He bent and kissed her knee and  
slipped his hand down between her legs. She tensed up  
immediately, gripping his back tighter.  
His eyes were fixed on hers, watching her every inexperienced  
move, basking in her enjoyment. His thumb rested  
at her maidenhead. Unable to take the exhilaration, she let  
out another moan and shifted her body as she planted her  
feet on the bed.  
Dmitry put his free hand on her stomach and pushed  
her back down against the mattress. His finger now inside  
of her, she sucked in a deep, low breath. She moaned a  
throaty whimper . He snaked his lips with his tongue.  
Suddenly, he was hungry. His mouth watered.  
Dmitry's Closet  
83  
Rolling her hips under him rhythmically, she placed her  
hand on his, enjoying the pressure. She breathed faster. He  
pushed deeper.  
The candles illuminated the room and his murals of tattoos,  
one of a large cross, two oddly designed stars on each  
side of his chest near his shoulders, many more up and  
down both arms and on his neck. Inquisitively, she ran her  
long, slim fingers down his chest, tracing the inky art.  
"Dmitry." Her words were nearly in a whisper.  
She looked into his eyes because they were soothing,  
not like as his monstrous body, that was extremely intimidating  
to her now. There were muscles everywhere,  
protruding out of his skin and framing him like armor; his  
body was long and wide, full of valleys, deep creases and  
ink. Even his knees where tattooed with the same funny  
large star. He looked like a deviant. A beautiful, dangerous  
deviant.  
She had not noticed that in the process of their interaction,  
he had kissed the rose lipstick off her lips, slipped the  
earrings and necklace from her ears and had her spread her  
body in the bed. He wanted to see her in completely  
natural form – no man-made additions to confuse Godgiven  
beauty. Watching her long hair fall down around her  
was the final step.  
"We‟ll see just how long you can take it," he said.  
"How long I can take what?" she whispered finally, feeling  
carnal exhilaration.  
Dmitry bent to the curves of her body and kissed her  
from neck to breast to stomach, to…the feeling of his  
mouth on her tiny secret caused her back to spasm. He  
kneeled before her. The black stars on his knees now  
pointing directly at her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
84  
Grabbing her calves, he pulled her hips off the mattress  
to his face and planted his head in between her thighs.  
All she could see was his curly blonde hair. Devastated, she  
reached for it and grabbed it as he kissed the inside of her  
body. Her moans became screams, and she grabbed at the  
covers. It was so amazing! It was so wonderful!  
Chills ran through her body as she felt his curious tongue.  
In and out, he moved, carefully until she finally called  
his name.  
"Oh my God, Dmitry! I can‟t take anymore," she  
screamed, panting and teary eyed. Her body convulsed on  
its own, pulsating with a new and vivid reaction.  
He released her as soon as she said the words. Her  
body drifted back down to earth, on to the comforter. She  
lay before him defeated. Her long hair danced about her  
body and created a crown for him to lay his large hands in  
as he lay on top of her. His manhood resting in between  
her steaming highs.  
She was ready. She wanted him inside of her. She  
pawed at him, pushing herself against him, opening wider.  
Dmitry was crazed with desire. The blood pumped  
through his protruding veins at a painful pace. He looked at  
her like a wild animal waiting for the perfect moment to  
strike.  
"While you are still virgin, I‟ll tell you my only stipulation  
of taking you," he said suddenly.  
"What?" Royal moaned. Her long legs were wide open  
and her back arched.  
He sat in between her legs looking at her with a strange  
desperation.  
"I don‟t want anyone ever make love to you except  
me," he whispered. "Do you hear what I‟m saying to you?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
85  
"Yes," she promised sincerely. "No one. I promise."  
Her eyes rolled, much too weak to truly open.  
"Are you sure? What I‟m asking is not fair or practical,  
but it‟s my stipulation, just the same."  
She finally looked up at him. "No one, Dmitry."  
Between deep breaths, she felt him reach down with his  
hand and slowly slip a finger inside of her again. It was an  
aching but enjoyable pain, deeper than before. She closed  
her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck.  
"Open your eyes," he said, kissing her lips. "Look at  
me, while I make you mine."  
"I don‟t know if I can," she said, scared of what she  
knew that he was preparing to do. "Don‟t hurt me," she  
begged as she felt his long member hard against her belly.  
Her request was not just protection from physical pain but  
also emotional.  
"I‟ll try not to, love," he said, lifting her leg a little, understanding  
the totality of her plea. He looked at her  
strangely, throbbing to be inside of her. Bending down, he  
kissed her mouth again. "Hold on to me," he instructed  
softly.  
She locked eyes with him as he gripped her behind in  
his hands.  
Slowly with every kiss and every maneuver, he moved  
closer to her center. He was diverting her way from what  
she feared. He was trying to take her attention away from  
what he was about to do to her.  
"This is the painful part?" she asked with signs of fear  
in her face. She was both excited and afraid. Locking her  
legs around him, she held close to his hot marble-like body.  
Dmitry did not reply.  
The sensation that she felt as his blunt tip rested at the  
door of her maiden head was unexplainable to Royal. She  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
86  
felt him rubbing against her, causing more excitement with  
every brush. The sensation caused her to breathe heavily  
and pull at his curly locks as he continued to kiss her lips.  
Finally, when she thought that the enjoyment would  
never end, she felt his long wide back arch and pull away.  
Then there was a monstrous rush into her body, and the  
completion of the powerful surge that knocked over her  
weakened temple like an army pushing against a weak front.  
Her mouth opened, but he quickly covered it with  
another kiss. She gasped, winced, screamed. He pulled  
back again and pushed deeper into her, this time allowing  
her mouth to be free as she screamed.  
"Oh my God!" Dmitry exclaimed in a strained and unrecognizable  
voice.  
It did hurt. It was a painful, painful sharp stabbing of  
her body that paralyzed her and shocked her senses.  
"Dmitry!" she exclaimed, looking at him with her eyes  
full of fear.  
"I know, love, but I have to complete it," he said pushing  
all the way down into her body with a third, slow erotic  
surge.  
"Complete, what?" she panted, pulling the hair from her  
face and holding on to him tightly.  
"The covenant," he moaned, kissing her again, feeling  
himself in very bottom of her love. He pulled back and  
made slow advances that recoiled the pain into some  
strange and indescribable pressure.  
She pulled at the sheets as he made her his, unable to  
run from the sheer magnitude of his 270 lbs force.  
In her own pain, she did not realize how reverse the  
spectrum was for him. He fought the pleasure of her  
unspoiled body with fierce intensity. With every stroke he  
longed to end his battle. Instead, he had to stay and make  
Dmitry's Closet  
87  
sure that she was completely pleased, a task that caused his  
entire body to tremble as he tried to concentrate on not  
concentrating on her beautiful body, amidst her sexy  
screams and the constant fact that he was so deep inside of  
her.  
She held on to his massive back as he pushed deep inside  
of her, leaving a trail of blood on the sheets. Her nails  
dug into his tanned back and left welts and marks of a  
battered lover, but Dmitry ignored the pain or welcomed it.  
She could not believe the throbbing pleasure all wrapped in  
one large stroke.  
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as he destroyed  
what she was to build what she would be. Realizing that  
she the old Royal no more, she was suddenly afraid. Dmitry  
recognized the strange bewilderment in her face and bent  
down to kiss her gently, carefully rocking her body.  
"It‟s better now, baby?" he asked, moving slowly.  
"Yes," she said breathless. "So much better."  
She moved along with him, her body spread to its capacity  
as his body shadowing over her. The pain had left  
her now, and there was a new feeling. Something that she  
quite enjoyed. It caused her body to shake and shiver,  
clamor in his hands like clay.  
He adjusted her long body slightly under his strong grip,  
moving her to a position where she could only feel the  
pleasure of his strokes. A sensual moan escaped her lips.  
Where had he learned to do that? She thought as she floated  
beside him.  
"I love you," he confessed again as he made love to her.  
"I love you too," Royal whispered softly.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 7  
The night air swept in through the open window and  
flirted with the soft curtains floating in its breeze. The soiled  
comforter had been placed by the door for Dmitry to  
discard in the morning, and their sweaty sheets lay in a pile  
by the bed on the floor. Exhausted, Royal lay beside  
Dmitry quietly watching the fan circle above her while  
Dmitry ran his large hands through her hair. Neither one of  
them had said anything for nearly an hour. There was a  
peace between them now that their bodies had done battle.  
Royal was in awe of Dmitry‟s skill in lovemaking, and  
Dmitry was awe that he finally had her. It had not been an  
easy task for him. No woman had ever made him wait  
more than a week before being intimate. Royal had finally  
broken three months into their pseudo-courtship, but it had  
taken much coercion. The deliberate wining and dining and  
thousands and thousands of dollars in gifts had been the  
easy part, developing trust had been the key. Royal required  
trust. It was a staple in their friendship. He laughed a little  
as he thought about her and then glanced over at her long  
body still glistening with sweat. Who was he kidding? The  
wait had been well worth it.  
Every once in a while, Royal would take her eyes off the  
fan and look over at Dmitry. To see him naked was quite  
amazing. While he looked absolutely devastating in clothes,  
he was even more lethal in nothing at all. As normal, his  
body was relaxed, maybe even lazy. His long limbs completely  
covered his side of the bed. The intricate muscles  
and tattoos danced over his tanned skin in harmony. And  
while Royal had never seen him workout, she was certain  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
90  
that he had to do so often. His body was a testament to a  
dedicated weight-lifting regiment.  
"What are you thinking about?" Dmitry asked, propping  
himself up on one arm to face her. His bicep bulged.  
Royal smiled. "I‟m thinking that I couldn‟t have picked  
a better man," she said, nearly hoarse. "I was sort of scared  
about that at first…I mean, to wait so long and pick the  
wrong person. That would suck."  
Dmitry lifted his brow.  
"But I didn‟t," she assured him.  
He ran his finger down the side of her nude frame and  
sighed. He was horny again – aching to be inside of her one  
more time.  
"I‟m sure that you could‟ve picked someone…anyone  
better, but I would not have been happy about it," he said,  
pulling her closer to his large chest.  
She nuzzled into him comfortably.  
"Change of subject." Royal said, abruptly. She looked  
up into his eyes. "What do the tattoos mean, man?" She  
had been waiting since he disrobed to get an answer.  
"Well, each of them means something different. Pick  
one, and I‟ll tell you."  
"What do the stars mean?"  
Dmitry rubbed his hand across his chest. "It means  
that I‟m apart of very elite organization. In my country, it  
takes a lot to get these stars across your chest. The ones on  
my knees mean I kneel before no man."  
"What about a woman?" she snickered suggestively.  
"You kneeled before me."  
"What I do in the bedroom does not count. And if I  
recall, you kneeled before me as well." His eyes glimmered.  
He was rock hard again.  
Dmitry's Closet  
91  
Royal nodded. "Point well taken. What does the Madonna  
mean?"  
"That I‟ve been a thief since I was child, and the crucifix  
means that I‟ve mastered the art of thievery."  
Royal smirked. "Dmitry, you don‟t steal."  
"Oh, I used to. Now, I just take what I want."  
"And the beautiful butterfly?" She traced her finger  
around the wings.  
"That I can maneuver very easily in many complicated  
situations."  
"Maneuver? "  
"It‟s how I got out of prison as young man."  
"I don‟t even want to know," she said, laughing.  
"Enough about me." Dmitry pulled her up on the pillow  
and snuggled his head in her breasts. He closed his  
eyes and sighed. "What about you?"  
"What about me?"  
"Tell me something that no one else knows?"  
"Only if you do."  
"You first."  
"Umm. I keep empty picture frames in my dresser  
drawers, hoping to put family pictures in them one day."  
"Tell me something important," he said, scoffing at her  
light response. "There has to be a secret that you keep from  
everyone, something dark that you don‟t want anyone in the  
world to know." Dmitry spoke as if he had many.  
"Okay, okay," she sighed and looked up at the soft linen  
above her in the canopy swaying under the force of the  
ceiling fan. Her carefree smile turned into a frown. "Some  
secrets are meant to be kept though."  
"What could you have done? You‟re just a girl. I‟m  
sure it couldn‟t have been too bad."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
92  
"Don‟t be so sure," she replied solemnly, forgetting to  
sneer at the girl statement.  
"Well, I would hope that if you gave me something as  
precious as your virginity, you could trust me with a secret –  
no matter how big it is."  
"It‟s really awful, actually," she said, wiping her face  
quickly. "Horrible, in fact."  
"If you tell me that you were born a man or that you  
were once a whore, then it‟ll be horrible, because I‟ll be  
forced to kill you."  
"Of course, I was born a girl." She laughed a little in  
between the sudden sorrow. "And the proof my virginity is  
by the door." She motioned over at the comforter.  
Dmitry looked over at the comforter. "Speaking of  
which, are you hurting still?" He rubbed face. "I could give  
you hot bath. It would make the aching go away."  
"No," Royal yawned. "I‟m just tired."  
"Well then, back to your secret then."  
Royal hesitated. "I‟ve never told anyone."  
"Then, I should be the one to know. Go on," he said,  
urging her.  
"Fine. I…shot a man once." She held her breath as the  
words fell clumsily out of her mouth. It was strange for her  
to hear, even after years of living with it. She waited for  
him to say something, anything.  
Dmitry‟s eyes opened. Shifting his long body a little, he  
looked up at her. "You‟d better explain that one to me," he  
said in a deep raspy voice. His crystal blue eyes beamed  
through her, waiting. A small smile crept across his full lips.  
Could it be that he was amused?  
"When I was fourteen, one of my foster parents‟ friends  
used to come over a lot. He was a truck driver, and when  
he was in town, he would always stay at their house. He  
Dmitry's Closet  
93  
was a real...funky looking guy, wiry beard and looked like he  
never washed. My foster parents would let him sleep in the  
den on the couch. He‟d watch porno while everyone was  
sleep. He was a real dirt bag.  
"One night when it was really late, while I was gone  
with some of my friends, he snuck in my sister‟s room and  
raped her. She was real quiet, you know. Plus, she was  
super skinny. It wouldn‟t have been hard for him to  
overpower her. She didn‟t tell anyone – probably thought  
no one would believe her. Then the signs started to show.  
You know…more weight, sick all the time, sleeping all the  
time. I got nosy and suspicious.  
"When she finally confessed to me what was going on, I  
was…on fire. You see, he would have never gone after me.  
I was the loud mouth, the bad kid. I would have fought. I  
always did," she smiled. "So I waited for him and the next  
time that he was in town, I followed him up to the truck  
stop and when nightfall came, I snuck into his cabin,  
seduced him and shot him to death with his own gun. I  
wanted to stab him; I even brought my own kitchen knife,  
but the gun was there. In a rage, I just grabbed it, when he  
had his pants down." She let the tears fall. "I donno. I  
wish that I could take it back sometimes."  
"Damn," Dmitry sighed. "I didn‟t know that you had  
any family." It seemed that the murder was not very  
exciting to Dmitry. He brushed it off. "What happened to  
her? Your sister?"  
"She killed herself a day after I killed him. She was  
pregnant at 12. We were only teenagers – barely that. She  
didn‟t know any better. The cops couldn‟t link me to it, but  
they did suspect my dead sister. Either way, I felt that I had  
avenged her."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
94  
"And you did. Sometimes, what we do in this world is  
right but not legal and other times legal but not right. Plus,  
you will do anything for family, even when it makes no  
sense," he reasoned, justifying her actions and secretely his.  
"It doesn‟t change that sometimes, I feel hollow inside.  
What I did won‟t bring her back."  
"But your vengeance probably protected some other  
poor girl."  
"I miss her. My sister‟s name was Chloe." She said the  
name and for the first time felt the reminiscent feeling of  
family.  
"I am truly sorry for you, Royal. If I could change it, I  
would. Unfortunately, death is sometimes a part of life –  
whether it comes fairly or unfairly is often not left for us to  
decide."  
"You sound like a fortune cookie," she said wryly, trying  
to cut her emotions off. Royal didn‟t want to talk anymore  
about her sister, not tonight during something so important  
in her life. She tried to move on. "What about you?  
What‟s your secret?"  
Dmitry smiled a mischievous smile, one of deceit and  
enjoyable trickery. "Anatoly is my biological son."  
There was a long silence before Royal replied. She continued  
rubbing through his hair and looking at the top of  
the canopy. "I get that. It‟s his eyes, you know. They‟re  
like ice, like yours."  
"You get that, huh?" Dmitry expected her to be more  
shocked.  
"Yep…sure do," Royal said without looking at him.  
"Well, besides the blonde hair, he looks just like his  
mother. So damned short," he continued.  
"He‟s not short at all. You‟re just too tall. How old is  
he, anyway. He looks thirty?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
95  
"From hard life, I suppose. He‟s only twenty. He‟ll be  
twenty-one this year."  
"You had him early."  
"Yeah. I was on my way out of the country and  
stopped to see an old girl that I used to mess around with.  
He showed up in America three years ago. He was looking  
for work and new start. His mother had told him about me,  
and he used his last dime to get here."  
"No one knows?"  
"Not a soul. And no one can ever know."  
"Don‟t worry. Your secret is safe with me."  
"Everything that I tell you is secret, Royal. You can  
never repeat one word," he said, closing his eyes again.  
Royal bit her lip, thinking about what he was demanding  
of her. Who would she tell? She didn‟t know anyone.  
"Just promise to always be as honest with me. I can  
handle a lot of things, especially considering the things that  
I‟ve done and where I come from, but I can‟t stomach a  
liar," she said sternly. "That‟s my stipulation to you before I  
take you."  
They both smiled.  
"Lying is for people with no authority. I don‟t lie. I  
can‟t say that I‟ll ever tell you everything, but what I do tell  
you will be the truth," Dmitry said.  
"So, it doesn‟t bother you that I killed a man?"  
"No," Dmitry yawned. "You were just protective of  
what little family that you had, I suppose. I can understand  
that. Look at where I came from. I‟m a gutter rat in nice  
clothing."  
"No, you‟re far from that," she said conversely.  
"You‟re the best man that I‟ve ever known."  
He laughed. "You don‟t get out much, my love."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
96  
"One more question, and then I‟m going to bed?" Royal  
continued.  
"What?"  
"What did you mean by making a covenant?"  
"When I was boy, my mother was whore. The only  
good thing good I had in my entire life was church down  
the street from our shitty little apartment. The priest was  
like my father. I learned to play violin there, and he taught  
me about sacred bonds between man and woman, a marriage  
of sorts through a woman‟s virginity. It is covenant  
between her, the man and God. The hymen is sacred –  
only to be broken by husband. It‟s ironclad. What we did  
is ironclad. No man or woman can take it away."  
"So, I have you forever then?" She asked smiling.  
"Yes…forever."  
"Like we‟re married without the papers."  
"For now, it is all that I can give you."  
"Wait. Are you saying that you can‟t marry?" The  
thought disturbed her. "But I want to get married one day.  
I don‟t want to stay single or shacked up my whole life. It‟s  
so incomplete."  
Dmitry could hear the sudden worry in her voice. He  
didn‟t want to ruin their night together by explaining all the  
complications in his life. It was clear that she would not  
understand.  
"There is no other woman involved, if that‟s what you  
mean. It‟s just not as easy for me as it is for most. We‟ll  
save that conversation for another time, when you‟re sure  
that you want to marry me in the first place."  
Royal sat back in the bed quietly. She did know.  
"But it doesn‟t mean that I don‟t love you. I do…love  
you." Dmitry pulled her hair from her face and kissed her.  
"Let me show you how much I love you, now."  
Dmitry's Closet  
97

Nine o‟clock had passed, and Royal lay in Dmitry‟s  
dress shirt slumbering in the comfort of her bed. She had  
been permitted to rest only a few hours, because Dmitry, in  
his cunning manner, had smuggled one more love session  
out of her, before he rocked her to sleep. She had gone to  
bed a little frantic of the hour, scared that she would  
oversleep. But Dmitry had assured her that he would take  
care of everything.  
The staff arrived just a few minutes before nine and was  
greeted by Dmitry. When they came in the back of the  
store, he was sitting behind the credenza reading The New  
York Times. While Royal suffered from wine and sex, he  
was a veteran of such affairs and had risen early in the  
morning to shower and have Anatoly run over to his home  
and bring back a fresh suit and his daily newspapers.  
In the month that both had worked for Dmitry and  
Royal, neither Renée nor Cory had ever seen Dmitry at the  
office early in the morning. He sipped on coffee now and  
talked to Anatoly, who stood listening attentively across the  
room and sending text messages.  
The two unsuspecting employees walked in chatting and  
laughing, but they stopped as soon as they saw Dmitry. He  
looked up from his coffee and set his newspaper down. A  
large smile came across his face, showing his pearly white  
teeth and long dimples. His cold, ice eyes were bright this  
morning.  
"Hello," he said, watching the two slip past him.  
"Hi. Is Royal alright?" Renée asked, setting down her  
lunch bag in the adjoining kitchenette.  
"She‟s fine, just resting upstairs. She‟ll be down soon  
enough," he said, crossing his hands together. "She said  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
98  
that you two would be here at nine, and here you are. This  
is good. I‟m sure that she‟s given you a list of things to do."  
"Yeah, she gave us a few things," Renee said, looking at  
Cory.  
"Well, I‟ll start to set up everything." Cory excused himself  
from the small room.  
"I‟ll help." Renée followed anxiously.  
They both scurried up to the front of the shop and left  
Dmitry and Anatoly alone, where they resumed their  
conversation in Russian.  
Renée ran her long nails across the remote and turned  
the television on, while snickering to Cory. "I told you that  
they were sleeping together," she said in a half-whisper.  
"We still don‟t know for sure," Cory said, giving Royal  
the benefit of the doubt. "She could be sick."  
"Whatever. You saw the same thing that I did last  
night. You and I both know that a man doesn‟t look at a  
woman like he looks at her, unless it‟s something there."  
"I don‟t look at women like that at all, Renée. I‟m gay,  
remember?"  
"You know what I mean," Renée said laughing. "Bless  
her soul, that big man probably wore her out with his fine  
ass."  
They both snickered again.

Royal finally rolled over and realized that not only was  
Dmitry gone, but the sun was up and the clock said eleven!  
She jumped up, terribly sore and ran to the bathroom. She  
was late, really late. She knew that Dmitry had told her that  
he would take care of everything, but it was her shop, her  
deal. She never meant to sleep so long. Jumping in the  
shower, she let the hot water cascade over her body, drench  
Dmitry's Closet  
99  
her hair and soothe those aching parts that had been  
excessively used in the last day.  
By 11:30, Royal was locking her front door and headed  
downstairs. In a comfortable pair of blue linen slacks, a  
canary yellow Chanel tank top, and blue wedge-healed  
Bottega Veneta patent leather shoes, she inched downstairs  
with her hair pulled up in a careful pony tail.  
Forced to take short, choppy steps, it was painfully apparent  
to Royal that it wasn‟t easy to walk as she was still  
aching from the pain of being a new lover. It was a sensation  
unlike any that she had ever known. On one hand she  
felt like she was glowing and could sing like a bird, but on  
the other hand, her body felt like it had recently suffered the  
business end of a Billy club.  
As her feet hit the bottom step, she quickly turned and  
ran out into the store. She could feel Dmitry behind her,  
watching her, but if she stopped and dared look at him, she  
might end up back upstairs in his embrace – naked and  
panting like a dog in heat.  
Dmitry smirked as he watched her shimmy out of the  
back office away from him. He also noted her soreness,  
and the fact that he should have soaked her in a hot bath,  
even against her will.  
Anatoly uttered something to him in Russian and gave a  
smug smile.  
"Enough of that," Dmitry replied abruptly.  
Hoping not to be terribly missed or noticed, Royal  
quietly announced herself and quickly made her way around  
glass and marble countertop, where Renée was checking  
someone out. A few early morning patrons looked through  
the new dresses and talked to each other, ignoring her all  
together. Royal was thankful for that.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
100  
"Hey, boss," Renée said, turning to look at her visibly  
exhausted friend.  
"Hey," Royal said, moving her bangs out of her face.  
"Sorry that I‟m late. I didn‟t get much sleep." She yawned.  
Cory laughed, most unexpectedly. He tried to repress it,  
but it shot up from his diaphragm. He grabbed his mouth,  
trying to muffle the sounds, but they crept across the  
boutique. Renée smirked and turned away.  
"What is so funny?" Royal asked, flinging her head to  
look at Cory, her long pony tail trailing around her shoulder  
like a black python.  
"Nothing," Renée said, touching Royal‟s neck. "You‟ve  
got a little bruise action going on there."  
Royal touched her neck and looked in the mirror.  
Damn it! How could she have missed that? It was a huge  
passion mark that was deep red and completely visible –  
undeniable in fact.  
There was a whistling tune that rang from the back of  
the store as Dmitry made his way through the boutique.  
With his newspaper tucked under his arm, he walked  
casually over to Royal, who stood looking in the mirror at  
her neck and ignoring him all together. As usual, the  
patrons stopped shopping and gawked at both his size and  
his haunting beauty. And as usual, Dmitry kept his eyes on  
Royal. She was always his target.  
"What are you staring at in that mirror," he asked, looking  
down her shirt.  
"Evidence," she said, showing him the passion mark.  
"Dear, I‟m afraid those are all over your body. Besides  
that, how are you?"  
"Fine," she said, forced to smile at the sight of him.  
Her eyes brightened. "I‟m perfect."  
Dmitry's Closet  
101  
"You should have rested longer. You are only as competent  
as your weakest employee. And I think you have  
strong employees, eh?"  
"I should have been up two hours ago." She felt a flutter  
in her stomach, remembering his masculine smell all  
over her. She‟d hated to wash it off.  
"Well, you look great. Actually, I wish that I had more  
time. I‟d let you know exactly how beautiful you look."  
With his long arm, Dmitry reached across the fine jewelry  
to the back of her neck and pulled her in to his embrace.  
Slowly, he kissed her right in front of Cory, Renée, the  
customers and God Almighty. Tasting the sweetness of her  
lip gloss, he released her and licked his lips. He was fighting  
a hungry erection again.  
"Umm…you still taste delicious," he noted.  
Royal opened her eyes and knew instantly that all eyes  
were on her. She stood back up straight and smiled.  
"Thank you…for that. Have a good day," she said  
blushing.  
"You, too," he said, rubbing her arm. He looked at Renee,  
who was standing dumbfounded with her mouth gaped  
wide open. Quietly, he turned and walked out just as he  
had come in -with all eyes on him.  
Royal could feel the chaotic energy in the room, but for  
once she didn‟t care. They were in love, and if he didn‟t  
mind that the world knew, neither did she.  
"Don‟t say a word," Royal said to Renée as she grabbed  
a yellow button down to slip on to hide her bruises. "You  
either, Cory."  
"Oh, we are way past words," Cory said, turning to help  
a customer.  
"I need to grab the fire extinguisher. It‟s hot as hell in  
here," Renee joked.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 8  
The basement of Mother Russia restaurant was basic and  
unattractive, quite the opposite of its upstairs luxury. It was  
illuminated by industrial halogen lights, painted in pewter  
black paint, covered in black linoleum floors and highlighted  
by one very large wooden table sent from Russian  
with seating for the divine 16.  
No windows gave the large space a depressing, dungeon-  
like feeling. It reminded Dmitry of the rainy nights he  
had spent in prison. It was such a constant reminder until  
he absolutely hated going downstairs in the basement and  
would only conduct business there when it was most  
necessary.  
Today, unfortunately, was one of those necessary days.  
Dmitry had just left the springtime of Royal‟s presence and  
had abruptly entered the hell that he called his private life.  
Anatoly followed closely behind him as he walked down  
the steps of the hidden space, where a small group of men  
sat around a long table awaiting him. His feet made an echo  
through the concrete staircase as he made his way down.  
Each step made him nervous. The winding stairs were in a  
tight place, perfect for ambush. When his foot met the last  
step, the entryway expanded into a very large opening.  
Dmitry took a deep breath, glad to get rid of the claustrophobic  
feeling.  
Two men with automatic weapons stood at a double  
door‟s entry. When they saw Dmitry, they opened the  
doors quickly and moved quietly out of his way.  
He walked in the room and sighed. "Gentlemen," he  
said, bidding them a good morning.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
104  
They all spoke collectively and watched as he sat at the  
head of the table. It was after all his rightful spot. He was  
the head of the Medlov Russian Organized Crime Family, a  
faction of the feared and revered Vory v Zakone that had  
migrated from Russia to southern London to New York to  
Memphis.  
Dmitry ended up in Memphis due to the growing distribution  
hub in the city and the convenience of the ever  
useful Mississippi River. When he first arrived, he had only  
a team of three, but his expansion required the recruitment  
of old friends from around the globe.  
The men had come obediently through the years to  
serve the Vory and their fearless leader, Dmitry. He had  
spent ten long years working to build his empire, and in one  
decade he had amassed more wealth and power than anyone  
had in his position before him.  
However well-known he was in the dangerous underground  
circles, Dmitry hid in plain sight well, behind  
lucrative and very upstanding investments both in safe  
stocks and real estate, starting new businesses and pretending  
to be an upstanding citizen working hard in his restaurant  
because of his passion for food and his desire to be  
around people.  
However, everyone in this room knew that he was the  
coldest, strongest, and most astringent of them all. A true  
member of the obocheck. He had slaughtered anyone who  
dared stand in his way, purchased both politicians and  
police alike, intimidated and followed through on the most  
unthinkable threats. And never truly worked a day in his  
life. He was Boss Dmitry Medlov.  
The other fifteen men around him had been allowed to  
live within a modified code of the Thieves-in-law. They had  
been permitted wives, children, the ability to intermingle  
Dmitry's Closet  
105  
with the society and the denial, so far, of the penalty of  
death for their transgressions against the code.  
However, Dmitry had stayed true to the old ways. He  
had watched over them, rightfully chosen as their leader  
because of his denial of all things that went against the code.  
He had not taken a woman as anything more than a lover;  
he had no children bearing his name; although he had  
businesses, he had never worked a day in his life – lived on  
only what he made through the code; and he loathed the  
government and all of its criminal justice departments. He  
had a file within every federal agency in the U.S., several in  
UK, was on watch by Interpol and still feared in Russia, the  
Ukraine and Georgia.  
Only no one could touch him, because he was so skilled  
at covering his tracks.  
"You know the drill, Anatoly. Check the room before  
we begin," Dmitry said, looking through a file that had been  
placed in front of him.  
Not only did Dmitry run all of their secret gatherings  
like corporate board meetings, but he also had paid an FBI  
agent to train Anatoly to check the room for bugs and the  
phone for taps.  
"It‟s clear," Anatoly said, standing in the back of the  
room, two Glocks visible in the leather holsters under his  
arms.  
"Good. Now, I‟ll make this quick, mostly because I just  
don‟t want to be here today," Dmitry huffed, irritated.  
"While I am your leader, I‟ve always considered us to be  
brothers. I have been fair with you. Where I have prospered,  
so have you. But the knife cuts both ways. Where I  
have suffered, so shall you, if you are the cause. Would you  
not agree that this is wise?"  
They all agreed that it was not only wise but generous.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
106  
"Then why would one of you desecrate the most scared  
of our laws by talking to the police?"  
The men looked around urgently, all surprised, at least  
one scared of what he knew the consequence would be.  
Death. It was part of the code. No Vor cooperated with  
the government. It had been the one code that was unbreakable,  
and so far in all the years they had been in  
Memphis, it had gone unbroken.  
"Which one of you is it?" He pointed down the table as  
he talked. "I‟ll make things much easier for you, if you just  
tell me the truth, now. But if you force me to tell you who  
you are, it will be most unfortunate for you." His voice  
never raised but his demeanor was cold and sinister. His  
long finger fell behind the force of his stare. He sat back in  
his chair and sighed, waiting for a response. There was  
none.  
The room was silent. Some of the older counterparts  
grumbled under their breath, angry at the leak, anxious to  
know who the snitch was. How dare someone talk! The  
outrage overflowed.  
Dmitry looked down at his watch. The long ivory dial  
made its way around the circumference of the golden plated  
watch face.  
"I‟ll give you another thirty seconds. I‟ll even count it  
down for you. One, two, three, four…"  
As Dmitry counted down the death sentence, Anatoly  
moved from the back of the room out of the darkness of  
the shadows with the shiny, chrome nine millimeter in his  
hand. Each person looked at the other while watching  
Dmitry‟s face for some indication of who the traitor was.  
But he gave no sign, he simply kept counting. "Thirty," he  
said finally.  
Dmitry's Closet  
107  
There was an unmistakable click as Anatoly pulled the  
trigger. The shot was quick and accurate. A man‟s body on  
the far end of the table flew forward, blood spewing out of  
his disfigured head in ulterior-spray red on the others.  
There was no gasp or shock. They all looked on bemused,  
horrified that their friend had been a traitor. His death was  
insignificant because of his treachery.  
Dmitry looked down at the brain matter on the folder  
that had projected across the room and cringed. Even in  
the man‟s death, Kirill had made a mess of things.  
He took the handkerchief from his side pocket and  
wiped the folder off. Then, he carefully passed the folder  
with the leaked transcripts of conversations about each of  
them along with pictures of the traitor meeting with the  
police to the man on his immediate right.  
"It‟s sad day when we cannot trust our own. This man  
has been my friend for many years. He was one of the  
original settlers. I know his wife, his children, his mistress, his  
life. It pains me to have to have done this, but you all know  
the rules that we live by. I have granted you the ability,  
unlike many of our brothers across the world, to marry, to  
have more than we would have in Russia, but one thing will  
not change. We do not cooperate with police; they cooperate  
with us. We do not roll over on each other. It has  
always and will always be punishable by death."  
The men agreed silently, looking on for their leader‟s  
direction.  
"What was he speaking to the police about," Khalid  
asked, a mid-fifties, balding Russian man. Putting on his  
glasses as the file arrived in front of him; he clinched the  
paper with his bony, slender fingers and squinted as he read  
the sobering transcripts.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
108  
"The police are forming a strong investigation against  
us. They want to find out who is the leader. They think  
that if they cut head off, organization dies."  
"We have evolved much since the old days," Khalid  
smirked.  
"Sometimes I fear to our own detriment," Dmitry replied.  
"How did you find out?" another man asked perplexed.  
"I am not without my own contacts in most agencies. I  
will not, however, reveal my source."  
"For how long has this gone on?" another man chimed  
in, disgusted by the betrayal.  
"He was arrested the other night by a local. Subsequently,  
he was questioned by feds because of his knowledge.  
One of mine inside got the information to me."  
Dmitry sighed.  
Frustrated, he clinched his teeth, but did not raise his  
voice. "With every choice, there is a consequence. So,  
enough about him. We move forward."  
The men were dead silent but in agreement with Dmitry.  
He focused in, past the fury and hurt in his heart.  
"In the next few weeks, we have much to do. If we are  
going to successfully take over the northern territory, we  
have to get new reinforcements from New York. I‟ve  
already met with them. We have about ten new guys  
coming in soon. Plus, I have sent to our friends in New  
York for a seasoned leader for his place. I have asked that  
they send someone with impeccable skills in nuclear trafficking,"  
Dmitry said, daring not to ever utter his dead  
friend‟s name again.  
"The northern territory has always been crap shoot. It‟s  
time to organize it and utilize the roadways to transport. It‟s  
cheaper, and if you lose one shipment, you‟ve got hundreds  
Dmitry's Closet  
109  
more behind it and before it. Now, this won‟t be easy.  
State troopers are doubling in number up the I-40 highway,  
but its prime real estate. I‟ve already purchased a few  
houses up and down the highway as far up as Knoxville.  
We‟ll use them as safe houses to push the product out to  
the east coast safely."  
"These men. Are they going to secure the way up to  
Knoxville?"  
"Yes," Dmitry said calmly. "That is their singular purpose."  
"When?" one of the men asked, looking at the file.  
"As soon they arrive, we‟ll begin sending them out in  
shifts," Dmitry said, walking to the door. "This group of  
ten that they are sending will be our newest muscle. They‟re  
all professionals with military, drug trafficking, munitions  
trafficking experience. They didn‟t come cheap, but New  
York has loaned them out to us for a while. So, go home  
and spend time with your families. We should not be  
concerned about all of this. We have capable men handling  
it all, and we can go home to our families and spend time  
with them in peace."  
We was a term that was never used by Dmitry. They  
looked up at him curiously. We? Who was we? Dmitry had  
no family. He had sworn when he became the boss of to  
uphold all codes of the Vory v Zakone ensuring purity at  
the highest level for the organization.  
He had never so much as even hinted at a lover being a  
significant other. He treated women like jewelry, discarding  
them on a whim. Now he spoke of family? Everyone  
automatically thought of the beautiful black girl that he had  
thrown the party for the night before. Could it be the Boss  
Medlov had softened over the years? Had his tyrannical  
reign over Memphis started to come to a slow end?  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
110  
They also thought of how kind he had been to their  
now dead friend. One bullet, no torture. Dmitry had to be  
in love. This was a man who would have walked into the  
meeting with a steak knife and cut out the man‟s entrails.  
However intrigued, no one dared say a word to Dmitry;  
to ask him about his personal life might mean that they  
would join their departed friend. Instead they nodded in  
agreement and saw him quietly out followed by his faithful  
henchman Anatoly. He left the room silently, almost  
remorseful for the loss. It was strange to see a reaction of  
any sort coming from a man who had never shown remorse  
for anything before.  
As the door closed, they looked at each other with  
raised eyebrows but still did not utter one word. Conversations  
would take place far from this place, far from the  
corpse lying before them bent over the table in a blood  
pool.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 9  
The calming change of autumn was welcomed in Memphis.  
The city needed a break from the heat. September  
was a transition month, mixed with days of smoldering sun  
and cool breezes.  
Royal had adjusted accordingly. Sale pieces were moving  
fast and being replaced by sweaters and scarves, darker  
colors and more layers. Also, the clientele for Dmitry's Closet  
was starting to really pick up. Royal had over 2,000 names  
on her VIP list for special showings of the new diamond  
collection, special trunk shows and private parties. She had  
women coming from all over the mid-south to shop and to  
be seen in the newest prêt-a-porte clothing from the finest  
French, Russian, Italian, Chinese, English and American  
designers.  
She even had a new billboard on Poplar Avenue that  
was creating a wave of new inquiries about the shop and the  
owner. Several local magazines had requested interviews  
with Dmitry, but he had deferred all media to Royal and  
insisted that she be the official face of the boutique.  
"Royal‟s been so much different since that morning she  
was late for work," Renée said, hanging the new Diane von  
Furstenberg dresses that had arrived only hours before on  
the front display.  
"I know. I‟ve been watching her," Cory said, looking  
out for Royal, who stepped out to grab lunch for the trio.  
"I wonder what‟s it‟s like to try to have a relationship  
with a man like Dmitry?"  
"Petrifying, I suppose," Cory answered absently.  
"I mean, he‟s beautiful, rich, powerful and sexy. What  
could be bad about that?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
112  
"Trying to figure out how he got to be so rich and powerful."  
"What do you think it really is?" Renée asked, setting  
down the dress. "I think its drugs."  
"I think it‟s a combination of all sorts of organized  
crime," Cory said, checking his hair in the mirror.  
"Do you think that she knows what he really does?"  
"No." Cory turned to her. "But we should tell her.  
Don‟t you think? I mean, we‟re supposed to be her friends  
for goodness sake." His southern accent came out more  
when he tried to be so flamboyantly gay.  
"How in the hell do you broach a subject like that?"  
Renée huffed. "This woman is still our boss and our friend.  
What are you trying to do…hurt her?"  
"Save her," Cory said, over emphasizing the "s" sound.  
"Royal‟s a great girl. It‟d be a damned shame to watch her  
go up in the smoke of Dmitry‟s fire."  
"It‟d be a shame to watch us walked out the front door  
of this place if we crossed the line with her too."  
"Royal would never fire us," Cory said sternly.  
"Get real. She‟d make one comment to Dmitry, and  
we‟d both be gone."  
"You think she‟d talk to Dmitry about something that  
we‟ve said to her?"  
"Of course. You white boys are so freaking territorial;  
as soon as she said something he‟d give us the boot."  
Cory ignored her snide remark. "He does look territorial."  
"All of you do."  
"Please don‟t tell me you‟re one of those black women  
who think all white men look alike."  
"I know that they all don‟t look alike. You don‟t look at  
damn thing like Dmitry. He‟s sort of dreamy, while you‟re  
Dmitry's Closet  
113  
sort of… I don‟t know. Peculiar. You could be cute if you  
wanted to, but the jeans are so tight, I can‟t focus on your  
face."  
"Dreamy, huh? No, I don‟t get that from him. He  
seems, dark and sadistic to me. Maybe it‟s the creepy  
bodyguards, the obscene amounts of money he spends or  
the trace of Anatoly‟s gun in all of his jeans, but I would  
never want to get on Dmitry‟s bad side," Cory said, turning  
around in the mirror to examine his butt. "And my pants  
are not tight."  
"Shut up," Renée said quickly. "Here comes the prom  
queen."  
Royal walked inside of the boutique with lunch from the  
Arcade, the oldest restaurant in Memphis, in white oily bags  
full of fried treats. She entered beaming brightly as usual  
and wearing a gold silk Dolce and Gabbana sundress, a  
denim jacket, white D&G shades with Swarovski crystals  
and cultured pearl accents, a matching yellow leather and  
white purse and flip flops. All together, she was wearing  
about ten thousand dollars worth of clothing and accessories.  
The thought made her blush. Dmitry spoiled her  
beyond belief now, surprising her with diamonds, pearls,  
expensive and exotic gifts all the time.  
"Sorry it took so long," she said, taking off her shades.  
"It‟s okay. No one has come in since you left," Cory  
said, helping her with the bags.  
They all made their way to the back office to eat lunch  
and watch out for any clients who might pop up. Sitting  
around the credenza, they opened the oily bags and set the  
table for a hearty meal.  
"Did we get anymore calls for the VIP showing of the  
Cyrille Gassiline collection?" Royal asked, stuffing her face  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
114  
with a large juicy hamburger. She wiped the excess grease  
from her mouth with a wad of napkins.  
"No, but so far, we are at 150 people with a 175 max  
capacity," Cory answered, wolfing down a hand full of  
French fries. "Man, a beer would be great with this," he  
said belching.  
"It‟s barely noon, lush," Renee snapped at Cory. "I  
thought gay men were supposed to be refined."  
"Stereotypes coming from a black woman? Really?"  
Cory raised his eyebrow.  
"Enough you two," Royal interjected between the catty  
couple. "We only have 25 more people to place before we  
close the event. This is a good sign." The thought was  
comforting.  
It had been hell to bring the trunk show to Memphis.  
Royal had desperately wanted to bring the popular Russian  
designer Gassiline‟s designs to her shop for months, but she  
had been turned down due to tight scheduling. Then, after  
a call from Dmitry, things were worked out, and she was  
able to bring the hottest trends in Moscow to the Southern  
belles of Memphis for fall. When her VIP list of clients  
received the invitation, they went mad calling to reserve  
seating for them and their friends and family, who would be  
flying region-wide to get her shop on October 1st.  
Dmitry laughed the night last month when Royal got  
the call from Gassiline‟s American contact in the middle of  
the night. When the phone rang, they were in her bed  
watching reruns of Criminal Minds. She reached over and  
answered it, then screamed so loud when she hung up; he  
had to cover his ears. "Thank you!" she exclaimed as she  
kissed him over and over again on his full mouth. For a  
woman who was not at first even a decent dresser, Royal  
had blossomed into quite the connoisseur of fine clothing.  
Dmitry's Closet  
115  
Dmitry had been pleased to help her, pleased to see her  
pleased and pleased that in her excitement she would please  
him. He quickly seized the opportunity to strip her naked  
and turn his attention from the make believe FBI agents to  
his real Royal Flush.  
"Someone‟s coming in." Renée wiped her mouth with  
the napkin.  
"Oh, I‟ll get it," Royal said, jumping up from her seat.  
"Really. You guys finish eating."  
A tall man, nearly the size of her Dmitry stood with his  
back turned to her looking at a rack of Chanel dresses as  
she approached him. Her footsteps tapped on the hardwood  
floors and echoed throughout the empty shop as she  
made her entrance, but the stranger did not turn around.  
Royal eyed his frame curiously, wandering if he was one of  
the NBA locals picking up a something special for a  
girlfriend or wife, which had become quite typical since she  
opened.  
"Can I help you?" Royal finally asked, her voice pleasant  
and soft.  
"Yes, I‟m looking for Dmitry Medlov," the man said,  
turning around to face her. His voice was deep, baritone  
and strangely familiar.  
"He‟s not here. May I help you with…something?"  
Royal‟s eye twitched.  
"Ah. You must be Royal," he said, fixing his eyes on  
her.  
Royal stood stunned for a minute with a waded up  
napkin in her hand unable to say anything. She was struck  
by his features and his accent. All Russian. All familiar. He  
wore the same type Armani black tailor-made suit Dmitry  
wore. His face was perfectly chiseled; every line faultless,  
free of blemish and full of beauty like Michelangelo himself  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
116  
had carved it from marble stone. He was nearly as tall and  
definitely as muscular as Dmitry.  
However the contrast in the men was undeniable in  
their hair, their complexion and their polarized demeanors.  
Where Dmitry had heavenly golden locks, this man had inky  
black waves that were cut low and highlighted by his  
naturally arched black menacing eyebrows and high cheeks  
bones. His skin was milky white and completely free of a  
tan. He had a faint, stubby beard that etched his breathtaking  
features, giving him a rogue quality. But his eyes were  
what truly captured her. They were even more intense than  
Dmitry‟s. Liquid blue, bold and bright like a clear sky on a  
Sunday morning. He looked at her now with a threatening  
stare.  
"How do you know my name?" she asked, stepping  
away. As beautiful as he was, there was something about  
him that scared her speechless.  
"The magazine article," he said, raising the Memphis  
Magazine in his large right hand. He walked towards her  
slowly, his long strides closing the distance between them.  
"Right. What can I do for you?" she asked, walking  
quickly behind the counter to ensure her space.  
He chuckled. "If I told you, would you do it?" He  
licked his lips.  
Royal scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him. "No, I  
don‟t think that I would, sir."  
"Pity," he said, smiling. "I‟d heard about you, but I had  
no idea just how beautiful..."  
"Heard about me?" Royal interrupted.  
Even in the stranger‟s smile, there was something evil in  
his eyes. He propped his large hands on the marble-top of  
the counter showing Cyrillic writing tattooed on each of his  
fingers and his sprawling frame stretched out like wings as  
Dmitry's Closet  
117  
it shadowed her entire body. He looked her up and down  
before he spoke again, enjoying how she fidgeted in discomfort  
at the sight of him.  
"Yes, heard about you," he replied, biting his bottom  
lip. "I‟m afraid that they didn‟t do you justice. Probably  
too fucking jealous." He laughed.  
"I‟m afraid I still don‟t know why you‟re here or who  
they are," Royal scowled.  
"Well, I just recently got to this hell hole. Dmitry  
knows why I‟m here. In his own way, because of his nasty  
little temper, I guess that he sent for me."  
Royal raised her brow at him.  
"Anyway, Royal, I just want you to tell him that I  
stopped by to see his new property. Trust me, he‟ll appreciate  
the irony." He smiled again and looked at her breasts.  
The lustful thoughts were evident in his furrowed, black  
brows. He looked back up into her eyes again and took a  
deep breath as he crooked his head a little. "I can see now  
why he broke his pitiful little monk code. You are absolutely  
devastating."  
Royal sneered at his advance. "His what code?"  
"Nothing." He looked around curiously.  
Royal followed his glance then eyed him. "Well, if he  
knows why you‟re here, then he‟ll know how to find you."  
She wanted him out of the shop right then.  
"Well, one thing is for sure. At least I know that he‟ll  
never be too far here. So, I now know where to find him."  
He winked at her. "Take for instance now. I bet he‟s only a  
few blocks away. I know Dmitry. He likes to keep his  
possessions very, very close to him. He‟s a greedy fuck that  
way. Hoarding everything."  
"Do I look like a possession to you?" she snapped.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
118  
"Yes, you do actually. The big question is how much  
does a woman like you cost?"  
"Is that a racist comment? You actually had the balls to  
walk into a shop and speak to a black woman about how  
much she costs?"  
The man smiled, revealing deep dimples. "That was not  
racist comment. I was giving you compliment. Would you  
like to hear a racist comment? I have many."  
"Only if at the end, you go screw yourself." Royal  
snapped.  
"Oh, I‟d rather fuck you." A smile crossed his lips.  
"And I‟m sure that I could do a better job than that anal nut  
job of a boyfriend you‟ve got."  
She looked into his eyes and saw a stir of something  
dangerous. That had hit a nerve. He was a typical chauvinist,  
unable to deal with the directness of a confident woman.  
He watched her like a vampire as her blood pressure  
boiled. The veins in her neck protruded out. The pulsating  
rhythm of her body could be seen through deep breaths  
that she took making her breasts rise and fall under the  
golden silk.  
Royal reached below the counter and hit the panic button.  
Just in case he was a psychotic as he seemed, she  
would need help. Her heart beat so loud and fast; she could  
hear it in her ears and feel it pushing out the confines of her  
chest. Calmly, she looked back up at him and rolled her  
eyes.  
Exceedingly grateful when Renée and Cory came out  
from the back, she literally belted out a sigh of relief. The  
man looked over at her and smirked. Her fear was like  
some loud perfume sprayed all around him. Hard to ignore  
or escape. He took a deep breath, trying to inhale it all.  
Dmitry's Closet  
119  
To Royal, his eyes looked liked they belonged to a wolf.  
That‟s what he reminded her of, a predator. He looked at  
her like he wanted to eat her alive. He turned his stare  
from Royal to Cory, who nearly halted in his tracks when  
they made eye contact. Renée quickly inched up beside  
Royal and stood behind the counter.  
"Who is this?" Renée asked, equally intimidated.  
"This is… I didn‟t get your name," Royal said, stepping  
back from the counter.  
"Ivan Medlov. I‟m Kirill‟s replacement," he said menacingly  
as he looked over and sized up Cory. "Who‟s the  
fag?" he asked.  
Royal looked at Ivan in shock. A Medlov? Really? The  
similarity was evident, but Dmitry had never mentioned  
him. Why? She divulged something as precious as her  
sister‟s memory to him, the murder of a perfectly dreadful  
man by her own hand, and he failed to admit to having a  
living, breathing blood relative outside of Anatoly? She  
found his secret cruel. Regardless of how absolutely  
revolting Ivan was she still felt betrayed by his careless  
omission.  
Ivan turned around and caught her curious frown. It  
wasn‟t the same angry scowl from a minute ago. He  
instantly put the pieces of her puzzle together and smiled.  
"You didn‟t know about me, did you?" he asked enjoying  
watching her realize his connection.  
Royal did not respond.  
"You know, if you‟d like to know more…about the  
Medlov men, I can take you out for drink. Get us room  
and show you …"  
"I‟m not interested," she interrupted.  
"You sure?" he raised his brow.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
120  
Cory walked over to the counter and stood with Royal.  
Grabbing her hand, he smiled. "If we can‟t help you with  
anything else, then we‟re going to have to ask you to leave."  
"Aren‟t you cute," Ivan said sarcastically to Cory.  
"Where‟s your little leash?"  
Cory‟s eye twitched a little, but he didn‟t move. "And if  
you need to get in touch with Mr. Medlov, you can leave  
your number here, and we can pass it on to him."  
"A number?" Ivan asked.  
"Yes," Cory answered irritated.  
"Oh. Okay," Ivan smirked, digging into his pocket.  
"I‟ve got a...business card with me somewhere."  
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a silver-plated  
Glock and laid it on the counter while he dug in his pockets.  
"I know it‟s here somewhere?" he continued, sticking  
his hands into his back pockets, where he pulled out a knife  
and laid it on the counter. "Just give me one minute."  
Reaching into the holsters under his arm he pulled out two  
more guns and laid them on the counter as well.  
Royal stepped back as she looked at her counter, cluttered  
with guns. Her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly his bite  
appeared worse than his bark.  
"There is no need to threaten anyone," Cory said, unmoved.  
"I have a pen right here. I can just write your  
number down. And you can put your guns away." Cory‟s  
voice was even and still, so much so that it calmed the  
women visibly shaken beside him.  
"No, no. I have one." Ivan pulled out a shiny silver  
pen and smiled at Royal. "Told you." He took the paper  
and wrote down his number, then slowly put the guns away.  
The clock seemed to slow, drawing out every second. It  
felt like a millennium before Anatoly walked into the store  
from the backroom, but it had only taken him five minutes.  
Dmitry's Closet  
121  
Five minutes to get from the Mother Russia to the Dmitry's  
Closet, and he hadn‟t come alone. Three men were with  
him, all wearing gun holsters with shiny, black guns tucked  
inside of them.  
"Royal, come over here," Anatoly ordered, motioning  
behind the men.  
Royal looked over at her friends, realizing that she could  
not leave them alone, she hesitated.  
"Go on," Cory said, nudging her arm.  
Royal grabbed Renée‟s hand and pulled her from behind  
the counter, where Ivan stood with a sheepish grin watching  
them scurry to the back of the store behind the Russian  
strangers that Anatoly had brought with him.  
Ivan looked back over at Cory and raised his eyebrow.  
"Looks like Royal brought some friends," Ivan said  
texting someone.  
"Evidently," Cory replied nonchalantly.  
Ivan put his phone on his hip and yawned. "You know,  
for fag…you don‟t squirm much."  
"I‟m a homosexual, not a punk." Cory answered.  
Ivan smiled. "And you‟re eloquent."  
The front door opened quickly and six very large brooding  
men flooded in to the store, all standing behind Ivan,  
obviously under his command and ready to demolish the  
entire place if ordered.  
Anatoly did not flinch. He surveyed the room quietly as  
his men spread out.  
"Royal, I had no idea that you had such a large entourage,"  
Ivan said loudly as he moved from the counter to the  
center of the floor directly across from Anatoly.  
"Don‟t talk to her. Talk to me," Anatoly ordered.  
"Who are you here for?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
122  
Ivan sighed. "How many times do I have to say it? I‟m  
here for my brother, Dmitry Medlov."  
"Well, you‟re in wrong place," Anatoly was unmoved.  
His voice only hardened.  
"What‟s the right place?" Ivan asked mockingly.  
"You already have information. Don‟t play me for  
some kind of fool," Anatoly snapped. "Mr. Medlov will not  
be happy that you‟ve come here. Not happy at all."  
"I‟m counting on it." Ivan smirked.  
Just then, Dmitry walked in the front door of the shop  
with the newspaper in his hand, whistling a tune to himself.  
Mirroring his brother‟s style in a pair of gray slacks and  
black t-shirt and flip flops, he looked up stunned. The door  
chimes rattled as the door closed behind him. Everyone  
looked over at Dmitry, who looked back with a deadly  
grimace.  
He took off his shades and looked around, eyeing each  
of the men. The entire room calmed when they saw him,  
almost stiffening in fear. Their demeanor quickly changed  
from aggressive to docile.  
"What the hell is going on in my store?" he asked,  
searching for Royal.  
"You have…visitors," Anatoly informed his boss. He  
didn‟t budge or take his eyes off of the men.  
"Obviously," Dmitry said, finally eyeing Royal in the  
back with Renee looking on confused. He reached out and  
waved for her.  
Royal huffed. Now she was supposed to go back across  
the room to him? She looked over at Renée and let go of  
her hand. She knew Dmitry. He was not worried about  
protecting anyone but her.  
Slowly, she inched through the nearly crowded room  
alone, past the beautiful devil named Ivan and clouds of  
Dmitry's Closet  
123  
armed men to get to get to Dmitry, the tallest and most  
fearful of the entire crowd. Her heels clicked on the ground  
as she did so. All eyes followed her short silk dress and her  
long legs until she arrived at Dmitry, who was now visibly  
fuming.  
"Are you alright?" he asked, ignoring everyone else in  
the room. He took her face in his hands.  
"No," Royal said, feeling the tears weld up in her eyes.  
"They all have guns."  
"I know," he said softly.  
"In a fucking dress shop," she continued in a strained  
whisper.  
Dmitry looked up from her and stared over at his  
brother.  
"Ivan," he growled, pulling Royal behind him.  
"Dmitry," Ivan said, giving a devilish grin. "I see that  
not much has changed. You still know how to stop a  
show." He turned to face his brother, but did not move  
towards him. Even he knew his boundaries.  
"I see that you still don‟t know how to make an entrance,"  
Dmitry said, nodding his head at Anatoly.  
He looked at the men all crowded in the store. He did  
not recognize any of the men with Ivan. They were not the  
ten men from the file he had received from New York.  
These were Ivan‟s personal bodyguards. The thought only  
angered him more.  
"Do I need to say anything?" he asked softly, looking at  
the men disapprovingly. "Because if I do, it will be kill,  
mangle, burn, hang and destroy."  
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Ivan‟s  
men appeared suddenly vulnerable to Dmitry and his  
overbearing demeanor that trumped even his brother‟s  
pompous temperament.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
124  
"Follow me," Anatoly instructed, turning around and  
walking out of the back of the store.  
All of the men, including Ivan disbursed quickly  
through the back door following Anatoly. They filed out of  
the building quietly, but they left Royal shaking in her flip  
flops. Tears were forming at the corner of her eyes, but she  
tried to keep them behind her long lashes.  
When the last man had gone, she looked up at Dmitry  
and buried her head in his chest.  
"Shh," Dmitry said, kissing the crown of her head.  
"Now, now shop girl, it‟s okay."  
"That man says that he‟s your BROTHER, but he came  
in here strapped like he was ready to kill someone and  
asking for ME!"  
"He‟s just putting on show."  
"Yeah, a horror flick," Renée snapped.  
Dmitry rolled his eyes.  
"Anatoly had on guns like this is the Wild West. So did  
the others, I‟m sure of it. What in the hell is going on in  
here? Did I miss something?" She shook her head in  
disbelief. Tears ran down the sides of her cheeks.  
Dmitry tried to calm her. "Nothing is going on," he  
said, smiling at her innocence. "Russians carry guns, especially  
Russians with money. And my brother has never  
known how not to be confrontational. Plus, you must have  
hit the panic button, dah? What did you expect Anatoly to  
come over here with – a bat? We protect our own."  
"From what? Protect yourselves from what, Dmitry?"  
Royal asked.  
Dmitry was quiet. He could see that pacifying her  
would only make the situation worse. "Can we go in back,  
please? We need to talk."  
Royal wiped her eyes and stormed into the back room.  
Dmitry's Closet  
125  
"They aren‟t coming back, are they? Renée asked in a  
cracked voice.  
"No. There‟s no need to be scared," Dmitry said, looking  
over at Cory, who had a strange unreadable look on his  
face. "No one is going to let anything happen to you."  
He set down his newspaper and checked his buzzing  
Blackberry on his hip. Then slowly, he made his way to the  
back office where Royal waited.  
"Dmitry, um…who is Kirill?" Royal asked Dmitry as he  
closed the door. Her hand was propped up on her hip.  
"What?" Dmitry looked up with a stone stare on his  
face. The ice in his eyes seemed to chill her bones. Royal  
stepped back. She could easily see the resemblance of him  
and Ivan now.  
"Ivan said that he was here to replace Kirill." Royal‟s  
voice lowered. "Who is he and why did he have to be  
replaced by someone like that?"  
Dmitry‟s eyes relaxed and he sighed, tired of the confrontation.  
"Kirill died last month. If you recall, I went to  
his funeral. Ivan will be taking over some parts of my  
company‟s operations," he said, putting his phone back on  
his hip in its holster.  
"How did he kill himself?" Royal asked, swallowing  
hard. She knew that she was treading in very unfamiliar  
territory by asking him questions about his business, but  
something would not allow her to restrain herself.  
Dmitry looked at her. She was shaking, afraid. He  
knew that there was no need to intimidate her anymore than  
his brother had already done. Carefully, he tried to explain,  
making sure to control his growing frustration. "He shot  
himself in basement," Dmitry said, grabbing for her hand.  
He pulled her to him gently.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
126  
"He also said something about you living by a monk  
code. What does that mean?"  
"It‟s nothing for you to worry about."  
"Then why won‟t you tell me. Why does it always have  
to be bits and pieces with you? Answer me!"  
"That little shit comes in here and starts babbling like  
teenager, and suddenly I‟m supposed to be the one who has  
to explain?" Dmitry snapped.  
Royal rolled her eyes. "You won‟t tell me, will you?"  
"There is nothing to tell. He‟s an idiot."  
"The point is that you never told me you had a brother."  
"I disowned him years ago. There is nothing to tell."  
"But if you disowned him, why is he taking Kirill‟s  
place?" she snapped, stumping her foot as she did so.  
Her quick response made Dmitry pause. She was  
quicker than he‟d given her credit for being.  
"I needed someone I could trust to do what Kirill did  
for me, but I couldn‟t find anyone…that I could trust. So, I  
ended up at least with someone who was mildly competent  
and overwhelmingly predictable. That‟s the best answer  
that I can give you."  
Royal changed gears. "What did Kirill do for you?"  
"He traded in very expensive machinery."  
"What kind?" Her eyes narrowed.  
"All kinds."  
"Uh huh. You know what I find odd?" she asked angrily.  
"Whatever you are thinking, stop it. Everything is  
fine."  
"Of course, it‟s fine. There was nearly a gun fight in my  
store, but everything is just fine." She rolled her eyes.  
Dmitry's Closet  
127  
"I‟ll take care of it," he assured her. His voice was softer  
now.  
"Take care of what? Everything is supposed to be fine.  
Remember?"  
"It is."  
"You keep saying that, but it‟s not true. I know it in my  
gut. You said that you would never lie to me…just couldn't  
tell me everything. But you‟re lying to me!" Tears ran down  
her face.  
"Royal," Dmitry looked down at the ground. He  
couldn‟t find the right words to soothe her.  
Royal looked up at him. She clenched her jaw and  
wiped the tears from her face. "You can‟t marry me. You  
can‟t tell me anything that‟s worth knowing. You only  
move with bodyguards. And everything is fine? Really? Tell  
me that I can trust you, Dmitry. Look me in my face, in  
my eye and tell me that I haven‟t made some big mistake in  
loving you - a man who is supposed to love me so much  
but can‟t even give me a straight answer even when my life  
is in danger."  
Her words cut through him like metal to bone.  
"Your life was never in danger. You are overreacting."  
"Bullshit."  
He raised his brow.  
"If you really loved me…" she continued.  
Dmitry interrupted. "So now you‟re questioning my  
love for you?"  
Royal didn‟t answer him, but she did raise her brow,  
mimicking him.  
"I can understand that you‟re upset," he explained.  
"Can you? You seemed almost pissed that I would even  
question you about it. I‟m just supposed to follow you  
blindly. Is that it? Well, I won‟t. I want a fucking answer."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
128  
He sighed. "Royal, I‟ve always taken care of you. That  
hasn‟t changed, because my brother came in here and acted  
an ass today. Yes, you can trust me. No, I cannot marry  
you, and as painful as that sounds it has nothing at all to do  
with what is going on here at this very moment."  
"Another lie," Royal said, under her breath.  
"Look, certain parts of my life are not your business, like  
it or not. I didn‟t hire you to be detective. I hired shop girl.  
You let me know when that becomes problem for you.  
And we‟ll find something else for you to do."  
The tears ran freely down Royal‟s face as his ice cold  
words destroyed her. She crossed her arms and looked  
away.  
"Oh, I‟ll let you know."  
Dmitry retracted. He could tell that they were headed  
towards an argument. "If you only knew how much I had  
to overcome to be with you – you would not…" he stopped  
himself. He saw that he had wounded her far too deeply.  
"No, you have not made a mistake in loving me, just in  
doubting me, which infuriates me so much that I must  
excuse myself now."  
Fuming, Dmitry turned and walked back out of the office  
leaving Royal there in silence and tears. She did not  
chase after him. He did not expect her to do so. She was as  
stubborn as he was, unable to bend to his will.  
Cory and Renee watched as the back door flung open,  
and Dmitry glided to the front entrance, visibly brooding  
over the concealed argument that had just taken place. He  
looked as if he could kill someone. Then suddenly he  
stopped and turned towards them stone faced.  
"Close the shop for rest of day," he ordered, looking at  
Cory.  
"Will do," Cory replied.  
Dmitry's Closet  
129  
Then quietly, Dmitry left. The doorbell jingled as the  
last of the Russians emptied out of Royal‟s now somewhat  
disheveled dress shop.  
There was a sigh of relief.  
Unable to hold back their curiosity or concern, both  
Cory and Renee ran to the back to check on Royal.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 10  
Dmitry had ordered Anatoly to take Ivan and his men  
to the basement of the restaurant. They waited there now  
unarmed for the boss while more of Dmitry‟s own men  
flooded into the basement with them.  
Anatoly watched them carefully, never speaking a word,  
only occasionally looking at his Patek watch. He knew what  
was keeping his father. Royal. The question was had he  
managed in all of this to keep her. He would know as soon  
as he arrived, based upon the body count.  
There had been many horrifying stories of the great  
Dmitry Medlov, as cruel as he was beautiful, as cold as he  
was cunning. The men had whispered about him the entire  
trip down to Memphis. There were many stories about the  
infamous crime boss all over the states, the UK and Moscow.  
But one could easily mistake his kindness for weakness  
because of his charisma and his ever graceful  
demeanor.  
Then there was his brother, Ivan Medlov. The story in  
New York and in Moscow was that Dmitry had raised Ivan,  
but since he was a boy, he had been a hot head. The  
brothers had fought back and forth over the years about  
many things.  
One night, after a deal went bad because of Ivan‟s antics,  
to make a point, Dmitry cut his brother‟s throat just  
enough to leave him in the hospital, but promised to finish  
the job if he ever crossed him again.  
Dmitry left New York while Ivan was yet in the hospital  
and moved to Memphis in search of another new start. The  
only way that Ivan gained control over the Bronx was  
because Dmitry left it for him. However, since Dmitry had  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
132  
been away from New York, Ivan had gained the favoritism  
of the decision makers there and had proven himself to be  
nearly as formidable.  
The door finally opened, and Dmitry stormed in and  
slammed it behind him. His men looked over at their  
general, watched the perspiration on his forehead, heard his  
hurried breath, and watched his twitching eye. He had  
walked from the boutique. A sure sign of danger. It was  
subtle anger that they knew to worry about, subtle anger like  
this. A man like Dmitry never was irate. His coldness was  
only reflected in the manner in which he destroyed.  
Dmitry instantly made eye contact with Ivan, who was  
even quiet now. He walked over to Anatoly and said  
something under his breath, then walked over to the head  
of the table where he sat down. He leaned his long body  
forward under the large light and grinded his teeth together.  
"Before I even get to how badly you have already  
fucked up Ivan, I want to skip to finding out who the hell  
these men are," he said, placing his elbows on the table and  
crossing his fingers.  
"These are my men," Ivan said, still somewhat smug.  
He turned around and gave the men a big smile, then  
turned to his brother again. "Consider them value added."  
"As in extra value to me, brother?" Dmitry smiled.  
"Dah." Ivan smiled.  
Dmitry smirked. "Many of you in this room don‟t  
know but my brother is psychopath." He over enunciated  
the words as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "When he  
was young man, I had him evaluated by woman I was seeing  
who was doctor. She told me that men like him have no  
feelings or remorse. They are very callous creatures."  
"That bitch was just upset because I did not find her  
attractive," Ivan said conversely.  
Dmitry's Closet  
133  
Dmitry sighed. "However, one thing that he does understand  
is loss of assets. He learned value of dollar much  
earlier in life than he learned appreciation for human life.  
So, he would covet an object so much until, he would start  
to love it, but he could never love person. This was true  
even in grade school for him."  
"Ah…there was one I loved, brother," Ivan corrected  
softly.  
"Dah, another psychopath." Their eyes locked. Dmitry  
smiled and then continued as the men listened on carefully  
unsure of why the boss was revealing such deep intimate  
secrets about his only next of kin to them – peons.  
"Anyway, I said all that to say that you follow him  
blindly, and all the way to Memphis not knowing that he  
does not give damn about you. He never will. He only  
covets something that it will require you to take from  
someone else. He will not pay you what you are worth to  
keep you.  
"He does not care if one or all of you are injured just so  
long as someone can replace you. You are not Vor, so he  
has no oath to you. This is why he calls you value added.  
You all have come as a bonus, nearly free of charge to him.  
And none of you, regardless of whose womb you slid out  
of, matter here."  
Ivan‟s men looked at Ivan and each other curiously, but  
did not change their protective stance behind him. Dmitry  
shook his head and Ivan smirked, not denying any part of  
what his brother had just divulged.  
"Plus, he put you in a very precarious situation. Because  
you are not Vor, I don‟t know you. You could be  
spies, cops…Brighton Beach." Dmitry shrugged his  
shoulders. "And you come down here and create problem  
for me with someone that can‟t be fixed very easily."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
134  
Deviously, he looked at Anatoly and hunched his large  
shoulders. "It is unnerving. My anger is nearly beyond  
control and someone has to pay." His voice was calm.  
"One thing I forgot to tell the men was how you love to  
give long lectures," Ivan said sarcastically. "Next time, I‟ll  
tell them to bring notebooks."  
Dmitry stood back up with his hands behind his back  
and walked midway of the long table and leaned against it.  
He ignored Ivan‟s smug comment, understanding that it  
was his way of dealing with discomfort.  
"No smart men would come into their boss‟ boss' place  
with guns and present a problem unless they were only loyal  
to the latter. And I can‟t have that. Can I? My men are  
only loyal to me. And you have proven that you are only  
loyal to him. And you have proven that you can piss me off  
quicker than you can tell me your names, which by the way,  
I don‟t even know. And don‟t want to know."  
The men started to fidget, realizing the grave error that  
Ivan had caused them to make. Dmitry‟s men spread  
further across the room in attack position. Ivan‟s men  
started to step back into the room, while he only rolled his  
eyes.  
"I guess what I‟m saying gentlemen," Dmitry pulled his  
arm from around his back and pointed the gun with the  
silencer at Ivan, "…is that I don‟t need value added."  
He pulled the trigger slightly away from his brother‟s  
face and shot each of the three men in the head quicker  
than they could start to flee. Their bodies fell quietly as the  
blood splattered across the walls.  
Ivan did not blink. He swallowed hard and a sighed and  
he looked behind him again. He shook his head in utter  
disgust. The smug smile was gone.  
Dmitry's Closet  
135  
"I just paid them thousands of dollars. You could have  
at least given me until next month – until they worked it  
off," Ivan said hastily. He turned around from the dead  
bodies pissed. "You have cost me large sum of money,  
brother." His anger was sincere. His tone much different  
now. It seemed his loss pained him. "I don‟t have their  
account numbers. It will take me weeks to track the money  
down, if it‟s not already spent."  
Dmitry looked at the bodies and his little brother and  
sighed. He turned around and looked at his men all staring  
in bewilderment at the strange turn of events.  
"Like I told you…a fucking psychopath," Dmitry said,  
passing the gun to Anatoly. "You all get rid of the bodies,"  
he said to the men. "Anatoly…Ivan…you both come with  
me."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 11  
Renee and Cory decided to stay after the store was  
closed and retired upstairs to Royal‟s apartment, a place that  
they had never been invited before, but desperately wanted  
to see. Royal was happy to have them; having been shaken  
up so badly, she didn‟t want to be alone. They followed her  
upstairs, nudging each other as they got closer. When they  
reached the large, heavily decorated double doors, they  
knew that the inside had to be spectacular, because even the  
entrance was grand in scale.  
Taking her shoes off at the front door, Royal invited the  
two in for a glass of wine.  
"Wow, girl! This is so beautiful," Renée said, looking  
around the elaborately decorated loft that had been recently  
filled with more gifts from Dmitry‟s various business trips.  
Renee marveled at the large crystal chandelier high  
above them in the vaulted ceilings reinforced by exposed,  
lacquered timber and brick in grid patterns. Below the  
hanging chandelier was a beautiful leather and chenille  
sectional with a matching oversized leather ottoman in front  
of a beautiful limestone fireplace. Exquisite bouquets of  
fresh flowers filled the room along with paintings of  
beautiful country sides. It looked like a scene from an  
upscale interior decorator magazine.  
"This is so European villa," Cory said, rubbing his hand  
over the marble-topped tables. "I‟m talking really expensive."  
"Well, Dmitry has great taste," Royal admitted, admiring  
the place herself. She was humbled every time that she  
entered into the apartment, bemused by the fact that it was  
her home.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
138  
"You can make yourself at home in here," Royal said,  
escorting them.  
After taking off their own shoes, they followed Royal to  
the dinning room hidden behind two stain-glassed doors.  
The room was painted in a warm khaki color, illuminated by  
an equally beautiful black tiered iron chandelier that hung  
from a lower ceiling covered in timber and highlighted with  
only dim receding lights. The room had no windows, which  
gave it a cozy intimacy, and it was sprinkled with color in  
the large area rug, accent chairs and large painting of St.  
Basil‟s Cathedral in the Red Square.  
Royal pulled out her finest crystal flutes and a bottle of  
Chateau Petrus that Dmitry had bought her last week when  
he had come home from a meeting in California. He  
actually had brought her a case, which is why she hadn‟t  
minded sharing one bottle with her friends considering that  
had all been through a bonding experience downstairs.  
She sat down at the round table and plopped comfortably  
in her plush chair. Pouring hefty glasses, she pushed the  
flutes around the table to Cory and Renee. This was the  
first time that anyone besides Dmitry had ever been in her  
apartment. The company was welcome by Royal, even it if  
was under the duress of such a hectic and unusual day.  
Under the dimming lights of the dinner table and  
among the 60-rose bouquet in the center of the table that  
gave off a beautiful aroma, they toasted and drank merrily,  
recapping every minute of their first encounter with Ivan,  
the valiant efforts of Anatoly & Cory, and discussing the  
king of them all, Dmitry.  
"Okay, so Cory and I have been talking, and we‟ve  
come to the conclusion that Dmitry is mafia," Renée said,  
looking for Cory to chime in. She sipped her wine and  
nodded her head.  
Dmitry's Closet  
139  
Royal stopped smiling. Her face changed into a grimace.  
"You watch too many movies." Royal denied.  
"And you are too naive. Did you see what happened  
downstairs? I nearly pissed my own pants," Renée said,  
savoring the taste of the thousand dollar bottle of wine.  
"I was scared too, but you don‟t have to get so Hollywood.  
This is Memphis, for God‟s sake. Home of Elvis  
sightings and pig-eating contests. What would the mafia or  
anyone else for that matter want with Memphis?"  
Renee raised her brow. "Well you do have a point…"  
"Exactly." Royal got up and went to the kitchen to retrieve  
a platter of cheese and a handful of grapes. Leaning  
against the countertop, she held her stomach. She stood  
there quietly for a moment, praying softly, silently moving  
her lips with her eyes clothes. Then she took a deep breath,  
exhaled her troubles and grabbed the tray. She came back  
and set the food on the table and smiled. "Anybody want  
some caviar? I‟ve got extra."  
"Okay. Well, who has extra caviar sitting around, and  
bottles of expensive wine in this economy. I don‟t even  
have extra containers of milk at home, and that runs me  
about three dollars each not one thousand," Cory argued.  
Royal snapped quickly. "So every one who has any  
money is now suddenly a criminal, especially a Russian man,  
right?" she asked defensively. She took a deep breath.  
"Dmitry has worked hard his entire life. He‟s made some  
very wise business decisions, and he‟s paid his dues. That‟s  
why he‟s wealthy." Her hands shook in frustration and  
pain.  
Cory raised his brow. "Royal, I‟ve never seen Dmitry  
actually work once since I‟ve been here. He gives orders,  
but I don‟t even think he drives his own car."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
140  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Royal  
snapped.  
"Well, I‟m sure he worked at some point," Renee added.  
"I mean, the abundance of caviar though, Royal?" Cory  
continued. "He seems to have an abundance of everything.  
Cars. Businesses. Money."  
She ran her fingers through her hair. "He owns a caviar  
company in Russia. It‟s like owning a fishing business here  
in the states…nothing to get all hyped about. And he made  
his millions over a decade ago. We were all still teenagers  
then." She looked around for understanding but there was  
no compassion around the table, at least not for Dmitry.  
"Uh huh," Cory said, pouring another glass of wine.  
"He also has a lot of bodyguards and guns for a restaurateur.  
It‟s kind of odd, don‟t you think?"  
"No, I don‟t," Royal lied as she stood up, unaware of  
how upset she was becoming. "He‟s Russian," she ranted.  
"They protect their own." She could hear his voice as she  
said it. She sounded like him. She was defending him, even  
though he had cut her down moments ago downstairs.  
Realizing she had stood up, she sat down in her chair  
and looked down at her hands covered in expensive diamonds  
and pearls. Suddenly, she wanted to pull off the  
jewelry and hide it. She was ashamed of it, of him, only she  
didn‟t know why. There was nothing left to say. She didn‟t  
know anything else.  
"The truth of the matter is that I love him. And I know  
that he would never lie to me. It‟s not in him," Royal‟s  
voice was soft and timid.  
"Maybe he‟s not lying to you, he‟s just avoiding telling  
you something that he knows that you know that you  
already know." Cory reasoned with her.  
Dmitry's Closet  
141  
Royal sighed. "You both are making my head hurt. He  
pays you above the normal pay grade. He gives you excellent  
benefits. All he wants is a little loyalty. You‟re both  
ready to throw him to the dogs."  
Cory looked at Renée and set down his glass. They had  
obviously gone too far and needed to fix things as best they  
could before she fired them both and kicked them out.  
"Look, we are in no position to talk bad about our boss.  
He‟s been great to us, but honey, you have to wonder," he  
said, sighing. "Well….don‟t you? You‟re too smart not to  
wonder or maybe you‟re just too scared. Believe me, no  
one would not understand that. We just love you. We‟ve  
grown to see how beautiful you are, and we don‟t want you  
to get hurt, is all."  
"I‟m not afraid of Dmitry. I trust him," Royal said,  
looking at Cory. "So, I don‟t have to wonder." But the  
statements that both Cory and Renée made weren‟t new  
thoughts for Royal. She wondered about Dmitry and his  
businesses now more than ever. Only she was far too in  
love with him to stop now, to leave him or push him  
away.

Back upstairs in the elegant ambience of Mother Russia,  
Ivan sat across from Dmitry in a closed private room in the  
back of the restaurant. Anatoly stood in the far corner,  
quietly watching and listening as his father and uncle sat at a  
large table under the light of a Tiffany glass hanging lamps  
talking quietly.  
"Is he your pet?" Ivan asked, referring to Anatoly. He  
looked over at the young man and blew him a condescending  
kiss.  
"More like protégé," Dmitry said, relaxed in the red  
leather booth. He looked over at Anatoly and nodded.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
142  
"Huh…well, he looks like fag." Ivan turned around in  
his seat and popped his knuckles. "I don‟t like to be stared  
it. It makes me conscious of my overbite," he said, sarcastically.  
He took a shot of vodka and slammed the shot glass  
on the table.  
"Don‟t worry about him." Dmitry waved at the waitress,  
who entered the room quickly and brought their  
lunch. "Tell me why New York sent you of all people? I  
thought you had good thing going in Bronx since I left a  
ton of shit for you. Now, you come here? What for? What  
are you up to?"  
"Kirill was a friend," Ivan said, tasting his brother‟s legendary  
borscht. "This is excellent. You were always a great  
cook. You could do amazing things with the trash we had  
to eat as kids."  
"It‟s your mother‟s recipe. Probably the only thing that  
she ever gave us worth anything." Dmitry watched his  
young brother eat the food quickly and sloppily. With all  
the wealth that he and Ivan had acquired over the years, he  
still had never learned any manners. It was true what they  
said, all the money in the world couldn‟t buy a lick of class.  
After he had scoffed down the food, Ivan put down his  
fork, wiped his mouth with the napkin and used the knife to  
check his teeth. Lighting a cigarette, he waved his sulfuric  
match out and took a long, needed drag, slowly blowing  
smoke out of his mouth.  
Dmitry watched irritated. Ivan had always been so theatric.  
Waiting for an answer to his question, he sat up and  
clasped his hands together. His nostrils flared.  
"Dare I even ask about the beautiful black girl at the  
shop? Are they calling themselves black or African-  
American these days?" Ivan asked, cocking up one of his  
long dark eyebrows. A devilish grin crossed his lips.  
Dmitry's Closet  
143  
Anatoly twitched a little in the corner wondering if his  
father would demand that he shoot Ivan right then. He  
would enjoy every second of it. Family or not, Anatoly‟s  
only thought was to draw first blood.  
Dmitry looked at Ivan with a stone stare. "My patience  
is starting to run very thin with you, brother." He sighed but  
continued to control his tone.  
"Well, we all know what happens when you become  
impatient," Ivan taunted, tapping his knuckles on the  
wooden table. "Bodies hit the floor." He sucked his teeth  
again and smiled.  
"Do you think you are immune?" Dmitry asked. "Answer  
my questions now, before I get…frustrated. Why did  
they send you?" His square jaw clinched.  
"I requested to come here, and I gave up my territory in  
the Bronx. That rat race was getting old anyway. I wanted  
to start over here with family," he smirked. "Plus, Kirill was  
a friend." He made sure to reiterate his point.  
Dmitry shrugged his shoulders. "He was coward, and  
he deserved to die. I should have killed him myself to make  
point."  
"What is your point, brother?"  
"You will know if and when I ever have to make it to  
you, and don‟t think because you are my blood that I would  
hesitate for even a minute."  
"Oh, I know damned well that you wouldn‟t. You‟ve  
proven that. Just answer me why you thought that you had  
to kill the only family that we‟ve ever really had?"  
"And don‟t ever question my authority. It has its consequences.  
Not much has changed since we last saw each  
other, brother. I do not answer to those below me, and I  
don‟t play well with others."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
144  
"Oh, I remember. I still have this to show for it." He  
pulled his shirt collar down to show his brother the long  
knife mark that Dmitry had left many years before only  
inches from his carotid artery. "Besides, I‟m not here for  
fight. New York said I could leave, start over and take over  
for Kirill with your blessing, of course. That is all that I‟m  
here for. So many years have passed; I thought that this  
would be a new start for us."  
"A start to do what?"  
"Business. What else?"  
Dmitry ran his finger down the table, checking for dust.  
He looked back over at Ivan, wide-eyed and trying desperately  
to be clever. If he had trusted him, even an inkling,  
he would have informed him that he did have more family  
in the form of the young man holding tightly to the nickelplated  
Glock in the corner, but the truth of the matter is  
that he did not trust him at all. And considering there was  
still a score to settle, evidently now more than ever between  
the two, maybe it was best for him to keep his long lost  
brother close and under a watchful eye.  
"For now, I let you take his place, but you play by my  
rules. Don‟t get creative down here. It‟s taken me long  
time to get things where I want them. And if you came  
here to avenge Kirill or anyone else for that matter, you  
might as well get up and leave now, while you‟re still  
breathing."  
"Given that we are still brothers, I feel as though I can  
say my piece."  
"Then say it."  
"He came over from Russia with us. He took care of  
me while you were in prison. He planned your escape, for  
God‟s sake," Ivan said, tapping his cigarette. "And you  
Dmitry's Closet  
145  
shoot him like he‟s nothing, when you could have still been  
rotting in prison for being a thieving, murdering bastard."  
Dmitry smirked. "I made it painless. I could have cut  
him open with the end of broken bottle in front of his  
family, shot his young daughter and mother, raped his wife  
repeatedly, burned down his house and took his dog," Dmitry  
said, tasting the borscht and making his point that Ivan  
wasn‟t very angelic himself.  
"Hey, I liked that dog," Ivan said, smiling. "I still have  
it. And I didn‟t shoot Vladimir‟s granny. She had heart  
attack from too much commotion."  
"You‟re the real monster, Ivan. I thank God everyday  
that we have different fathers."  
"What did you expect? Our mother was whore," he  
laughed. "Okay. Okay. I work your plan …this way I can  
grow."  
"Memphis isn‟t big enough for the two of us, brother,  
unless you do work my plan. You stay here; you will always  
play by my rules. You work for me. I give you his share.  
You take his pay, his territory and his responsibilities."  
Dmitry leaned closer to him. His voice lowered. "You  
work the plan, you have good life, live long time, maybe  
even have family. Hell, you can have Kirill‟s wife, if you‟d  
like. She is as discerning as a blind, deaf dog in heat. But if  
you get out of your lane, get greedy, disrespect me one time,  
I swear to the sweet, precious Mother Mary that I‟ll kill you  
myself… and for good this time." Dmitry‟s words were  
laced with paralyzing venom. He seethed with anger and  
disdain, but it was only evident in his tone, his eyes, and the  
point of his finger to the table.  
"I‟m not interested in getting out of lane. I just want  
new start," he said seriously.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
146  
"Alright." He stood up. "Anatoly, show him to his  
new place. Oh…and one more thing, Ivan. I didn‟t kill  
your men just because I didn‟t trust them. I killed them,  
because you brought them near Royal. Stay away from her,  
or you‟ll be next."  
Dmitry walked out of the door and in his gentle manner  
greeted a customer who passed him.

Royal and her friends had nearly finished the bottle of  
wine and had moved on to other discussions about various  
unimportant issues when they heard the front door open  
and close. Heavy footsteps on the hardwood floors echoed  
throughout the loft and silenced them all. Royal‟s heart  
skipped a beat. Her tyrant was evidently back. He rounded  
the corner and leaned on the doorway. Cory and Renée sat  
up in their chairs, a little uncomfortable. Both wondered  
should they be there.  
"Sorry, I didn‟t know that you had company," Dmitry  
said, looking at Cory, who shifted in his seat.  
"We were just leaving," Renée explained, standing up.  
"We just wanted to keep her company for a while."  
"Please, don‟t leave on my account," he said, waving her  
to sit back down.  
"It‟s getting late anyway." Cory stood and pushed up his  
chair. "Royal, do you mind if I use your restroom?"  
"The guest restroom is just down the corridor to your  
right," she said, barely acknowledging Dmitry.  
Dmitry looked down at her, still angry at him from earlier.  
He knew that he deserved it. None of this had been  
her fault, but somehow, he had gotten her involved.  
Running his fingers over the door frame, he sighed and  
turned away.  
Dmitry's Closet  
147  
When Royal was certain that Dmitry was out of earshot,  
she turned back to Renée, who was quickly gathering her  
things. "Thanks for coming over," she said appreciatively.  
"You‟re welcome, girl." Renée reached over and hugged  
Royal. "Call me if you need anything."  
"I will." Royal sighed.  
When Cory came out of the bathroom, Royal thanked  
her friends and saw them out of her house. After making  
sure that the door was locked, she went to her bedroom,  
where Dmitry had retired to the bathroom to take a shower.  
Frustrated, she picked his clothes up off the floor,  
folded them, and placed them carefully on the wooden  
valet. She hated when he threw his clothes on the floor like  
he had a maid…over here.  
Turning around to leave, she looked over at him and  
noticed how solemn he actually was. Something was wrong.  
He leaned his large frame against the marble and let the  
water cascade down his long back. The stream looked like a  
small river as it poured down the valley of rippling muscles.  
Feeling a tinge of sympathy for him, she walked over to the  
glass shower door and tapped her index finger on the glass.  
Dmitry turned and looked over at her, then pulled open  
the large door. She stepped away to avoid getting wet, but  
he reached out with his long drenched arm and pulled her in  
with him.  
"Are you still mad at me?"  
"Are you serious? Of course, I am. It just happened  
like five minutes ago."  
"I thought you might give me break for first offense."  
"Are you negotiating down your dog house time?"  
"Yes."  
"Who negotiates how long your girlfriend can stay  
mad at you?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
148  
"Who doesn‟t?"  
Royal shook her head. He was impossible.  
"What do you want to ask me? You have that look  
like you‟re thinking crazy ass thoughts." He waited.  
"What is going on with you, Dmitry?" she asked, now  
soaking wet.  
"The ghost of Christmas past," he said, pulling the yellow  
dress over her head.  
"What?" she asked, taking off her ruined heels. "See,  
that‟s what I‟m talking about. Code. That doesn‟t answer  
my question. When you speak in code like that I can‟t…"  
"Shh." He put his finger on her lips. "Я так люблю  
тебя."  
"I love you, too." She had only learned a few sentences  
in Russian since she had started dating Dmitry, and I love you  
was the first.  
Pulling Royal to his body, Dmitry reached around her  
and loosened the clasps on her black bra. It fell to the  
ground between them on the granite flooring. He leaned  
over and kissed her bare, satin-like shoulders and held her  
close, feeling her soft wet skin against his own.  
He began to speak slowly in a tongue that she could not  
understand. "Ya blagadaryu boga chto vstretil tebya," he  
whispered in her ear. Royal smiled. His voice sounded  
more even more like silk in his Russian baritone brogue.  
"Ya palyubil tebya s pervova vzglyada." He continued.  
"What does all that mean?" Royal asked, feeling his  
large hands run up and down her body.  
"I thank God that I met you, and…I fell in love with  
you from the first sight," he said, feeling her small hands  
moving down his stomach to the large erection nestled in  
her diaphragm.  
Dmitry's Closet  
149  
"You‟d say anything to get out of trouble," Royal whispered.  
"Umm…you know I‟ve taken out as much frustration  
as I can on my men, the rest will have to be taken out on  
you," he growled, kissing her neck.  
"I‟m sure it was a slap on the wrist," she huffed, rolling  
her eyes. "After all, it was nothing. Remember?"  
"Are we still discussing this?"  
"Yes?"  
"You think I was lenient?" He stopped and looked at  
her. The sound of water drowned the room.  
"I‟m sure you were." Her hands were still wrapped  
around him. She wore only a condescending stare.  
"There is one thing that is constant with me – killing  
makes me horny." His face was still charming and soft.  
"Do I feel horny to you?" He pulled her closer to into his  
engorged body.  
"The only thing that you‟re killing right now is the  
mood," she said, pulling him closer. "Really, Dmitry. You  
don‟t have to act tough for me." She kissed his lips slowly,  
taking in the smell of his sandalwood soap on his skin.  
"Now, you‟re really in trouble," he said turned on.  
Dmitry looked down at her, pleased at how she had  
grown accustomed to all of his silent commands and equally  
pleased at how oblivious she was at who he really was.  
Running his hands down her breasts to her nipples, he  
watched the goose bump form all over her body. She  
obediently leaned her neck back where he could better kiss  
her.  
Completely enraged, he ripped her panties by the lace  
sides violently and tore them from her skin. The water  
poured over her curly long hair making it stick to her back  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
150  
and cover her breasts; he moved the jet black mane back  
from her face as he kissed her all over.  
Royal gasped, feeling that familiar sensation of floating  
as he picked her up. She reached up for his mouth and  
kissed him passionately, tasting vodka and shower water in  
her mouth, smelling his cologne around them. She wrapped  
her long legs around him as he leaned her body against the  
wet marble. Planting his feet firmly, he invaded her slowly  
and powerfully. She gripped his back with her long nails as  
the steam crowded the room. Finally, soft moans came  
from shower.

Royal could feel herself drifting away as she lay on top  
of Dmitry‟s chest. Exhausted, she listened to John Coltrane  
play Traneing In on her IPod system in the dark of the night  
with only a candelabrum of white candles to illuminate the  
room. Dmitry rubbed through her hair and looked up at  
the ceiling. His eyes were fixed on the fan, but his mind  
was many miles away.  
Regardless of where his thoughts were, she savored the  
feeling of safety when he was near. It was something about  
his very presence that made her feel a tranquil solace. By  
far, it was the safest that she had ever felt in her entire life,  
and she was very grateful to him for it. She ran her fingers  
down his chest as she felt him breathe – in and out in a  
slow, rhythmic tone. The only thing that she did regret was  
how mysterious he still was to her. She only hoped in time  
that he would open up more and show her the many sides  
of him that she was certain existed.  
"I want you to move in with me to my home," Dmitry  
said, finally after much thought.  
Royal looked up at him curiously. He had been quiet  
for nearly half an hour, but that was normal for him.  
Dmitry's Closet  
151  
She had learned early that often he was a man of few  
words. Reaching down, he grabbed her by her waist and  
pulled her up to him. She sat up on his chest and sighed.  
"Because of Ivan?" she assumed.  
"No, because it‟s time," he said quickly.  
"Well, it hasn‟t been that long, Dmitry."  
"Long enough." He cupped her bare behind in his large  
hands. "Have I not proven myself to you in every way a  
man can?"  
"Yeah," Royal said, assuring him of her confidence in  
their relationship. "But I don‟t understand why you want  
me to move in now."  
"Trust me," Dmitry said, kissing her lips. "Plus, I get  
tired of running from place to place. I am not rolling stone.  
You should be in my bed every morning when I wake up  
and in my bed every night that I go to bed."  
Royal laid her head back down on his chest. "That does  
sound nice. Okay. When do you want me to move to Castle  
Dmitry?"  
"Tomorrow. I will stay with you here tonight."  
Royal jerked up again. "Tomorrow? Dmitry?"  
He rubbed her back and smiled. "You know, for a  
woman in love, you don‟t trust much."  
His words shamed her.  
"I do trust you. I‟m just not stupid. Everything was  
fine. We were fine just like we were until today when your  
mysterious brother popped up offering sex and brandishing  
guns with his boys."  
Dmitry cringed. "When did he offer you sex?"  
"It doesn‟t matter," she looked away. "That‟s not the  
bigger picture here."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
152  
"Baby, listen to me. Ivan is very dangerous person.  
Don‟t ever trust him. Don‟t ever get close to him, and don‟t  
ever find yourself alone with him."  
Royal could see the urgency in his eyes. She knew to  
take heed to his warning, even though she didn‟t understand  
why.  
"Why don‟t you send him away if he‟s so dangerous?"  
"I‟ve thought about it, but he has to be neutralized.  
Sending him away doesn‟t work anymore," he sighed. "I‟ve  
done that. So, you keep friends close and enemies even  
closer. This is not cliché statement. It is truth."  
Royal laid her head back on his chest and closed her  
eyes.  
"Tomorrow it is, then," she said, pulling the comforter  
over her body.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 12  
The Fall trunk shows and VIP diamond and fur shows  
had gone extremely well for Royal. She had been interviewed  
by all the local television stations and showcased by  
The Commercial Appeal, The Downtowner, Skirt Magazine and  
the Memphis Flyer. All four were highly visible print media  
that promised her an even bigger market share by Christmas.  
Business was doing better than well. Dmitry's Closet had  
more than quadrupled its profits for the second quarter with  
clients knocking down the door every morning for a private  
viewing of the newest collections, special orders from Milan  
and Moscow and consultations with the new it girl of the  
Memphis fashion scene.  
Royal was a hot commodity, even more sought after  
now due to a very popular local blog that did a high profile  
story on her at her $3.5 million home that she shared with  
tycoon and sexy business man, Dmitry Medlov.  
Since the story broke and all of Memphis had seen pictures  
of the two relaxing around town in the hottest night  
clubs, the finest restaurants, the most elite of circles; Royal  
had become a notorious figure. One reporter wrote,  
"It's not just that she's a talented young business woman with a keen  
eye for fashion, she's also breathtakingly beautiful. The combination creates  
the desire to spend money to look like Memphis' newest princess, Royal  
Stone."  
Dmitry celebrated their new found success by buying  
Royal a new X6 BMW, fully loaded in all black and a  
beautiful Tiffany swing necklace. She had no idea that the  
platinum chain cost $40,000.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
154  
Royal celebrated by purchasing more ad space in the  
same magazines that tooted her store and increasing her  
inventory of all things Russian.  
She sat reading the newspaper in awe as it boasted  
about all the celebrity patrons that she was acquiring. Little  
did they all know that she was on the verge of starving at  
the first of summer. She closed the newspaper and blew  
her nose with roll of tissue on the kitchen table. The  
weather had started to change, and in celebration of that  
fact, she had acquired a nasty little cold.  
Coughing, she made her way across the cold tile floors  
on her bare feet to the counter to pour another cup of  
coffee. She sneezed unexpectedly. Quickly trying to cover  
it, she turned away from the defenseless coffee pot. Germs.  
Lots and lots of germs. She rubbed her aching head.  
Dmitry walked in the kitchen in his silk pajamas bottoms  
and bare-chested with an empty cup in hand. His nose  
was red and his high cheek bones rosy. He walked up  
behind her and wrapped his arms around her silk silver  
kimono.  
"Good morning, love," he said, kissing her neck. "I  
think you gave me flu. Hopefully not H1N1." He set his  
black coffee mug in front of her so that she could refill his  
caffeinated beverage. He coughed a little as he rested at the  
mesquite-topped table island covered in newspapers.  
"No, I think you gave me the flu," Royal said, pouring  
him another cup of coffee as well as herself. She walked  
back over to the table with their cups and sat down.  
"So, what are we going to do today?" Dmitry asked,  
picking up the paper that she had discarded. "These people  
can‟t get enough of you. This is like the tenth paper that  
you‟ve been in this quarter." He pulled the paper to his face  
and began to read quietly.  
Dmitry's Closet  
155  
Suddenly there was a quiet gasp from Royal. He pulled  
the newspaper down to see her sitting with her hand over  
her mouth looking directly at him.  
"What…what is it?" he asked concerned.  
"Look, it‟s Woodrow Conners." She grabbed the  
newspaper.  
"Who is Woodrow Conners?"  
She read quickly, placing her fingers on the paper. "It‟s  
the guy that I cut with the scissors when I was in foster  
care." She looked up at him stunned.  
"Oh…that guy. What about him? Did they convict him  
of trying to rape some other teenager?"  
"He was murdered...in the bathroom of a club…cut  
from ear to ear."  
Dmitry sighed. "Sounds like karma caught up with  
him."  
Royal was silent.  
"You aren‟t sad, are you?" He sipped his coffee.  
"No. It‟s just weird." She shook her head in disbelief.  
"This is Memphis. Someone is killed here all the time -  
everyday. This is why I tell you to be very careful at shop,  
not to get too comfortable."  
"I know. I know." She sighed.  
"Well, you have done your thirty seconds of mourning.  
I do not want to give that pedophile a minute more of my  
day."  
"You‟re right." Royal pushed the paper away from her.  
She redirected. "It‟s Thanksgiving. I think that we should  
have a big American dinner together. I won‟t work from  
home, and you won‟t work from the restaurant."  
"I don‟t work."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
156  
"Well whatever you do." She leaned over the island and  
smiled. "Please." She batted her watery eyes and sniffed,  
unsure if contagious charm had the same affect.  
"You want to have this at the restaurant?" He barely  
looked up from the front page of the paper. "If so, I can  
call the girls and make them come in to cook."  
"No. I was thinking that you and I could have dinner  
here. I could invite Renée, and you could invite Anatoly.  
We could watch the football game and have some soul food  
and have a few beers. You know, celebrate the red, white  
and blue way."  
"Anatoly lives here. How can I invite him to dinner at  
his own house?"  
"You know what I mean." Royal took a sip of her coffee.  
The hot burn made her aching throat feel better.  
"No, I don‟t."  
"I mean that you could insist that he come. If I invite  
him, I think that he‟ll say no."  
"Why would he say no?"  
"I don‟t‟ know? I just get that feeling. I think that he  
thinks I‟m a pest."  
"He won‟t say no. You ask him. This will be good  
communication between you two." Dmitry sneezed.  
"Shit." He grabbed the tissue and blew his own nose. He  
continued. "And you‟re going to fix this American meal?"  
"Yep. Renée will help me. I‟ll run to Wal-Mart and  
pick up anything that I don‟t‟ already have. But I‟ think that  
we‟re good."  
"You don‟t have to do this. It‟s holiday. You‟re supposed  
to be getting some rest. Plus, you are sick."  
"I want to," Royal said, quickly. She walked over to  
him and slid between his long legs. Wrapping her arms  
around him, she gave him a big hug. "You‟re always doing  
Dmitry's Closet  
157  
stuff for me. I want to do something for you for a change.  
Don‟t say no."  
He groaned a little. "Okay," he said, rubbing her back.  
He sneezed again and buried his head in her shoulder. "I  
feel like truck hit me."

For Dmitry, life was lived through the details. His  
home or as he affectionately referred to it, their home was a  
mansion full of perfect, intricate details. The very first time  
that Royal had been inside it was weeks after their first  
sexual encounter. Dmitry had persuaded her to spend the  
night and enjoy a nice dinner, cooked and served by him.  
The beauty of it stole Royal‟s heart, as it was supposed to.  
It was the most perfect date that she had ever been on with  
a five course meal, great music, expensive wine and passionate  
love making.  
That evening, Dmitry walked her through each room  
explaining his motivation for his interior choices and  
sharing the history or the various cultures behind each piece  
like she was at a museum on a private tour.  
The seven-bedroom, five and half bathroom monster of  
a house was designer‟s dream. He had chosen a French and  
Russian theme for the house, complimenting the many tall  
arched windows, iron chandeliers, limestone and marble  
floors, exotic tiles, beautiful woodwork and masterful  
furniture with equally brilliant hues of paint, iron work and  
paintings.  
The house in its entirety blew Royal‟s mind. It was a  
testament to his many travels all over the world, his love for  
Russian culture and his growing dynasty.  
The back yard was landscaped with beautiful shrubbery,  
a large infinity-edged pool and protected by rows and rows  
of well-pruned trees.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
158  
The four-car garage was occupied by his favorite Mercedes-  
Benz McLaren, a black 7 series BMW, a white  
Mazerati GranTursimo that he hardly ever drove and  
Royal‟s truck. The entire property was surrounded by a  
brick and rod iron gate and two very non-vicious Doberman  
pinchers that Royal liked to pet whenever they would  
come to her.  
His masterpiece would not be complete without a maid,  
whom Royal opposed having but Dmitry contended was  
necessary. Royal made sure to never leave a mess and  
always help with the cleaning still to make a point that she  
was not a pre Madonna. In all, his fortress was a dream  
that now seemed more complete with his Memphis princess.

Anatoly was outside feeding the dogs, when Royal got  
dressed and headed out to look for him. She found him  
bent over in the kennel speaking in Russian to the canines.  
She was certain that he knew that she was behind him, so  
she waited patiently and quietly until he was finished. He  
set down the ten-pound bag of Purina and wiped his hands  
on his jeans and turned around to face her.  
"What‟s the matter, Royal?" he asked, grabbing his bottle  
of water off the ground. "You need me to take you  
somewhere?"  
"Uh…no. Actually, I came out here to see what you  
were doing this afternoon."  
Anatoly looked at her curiously. "Why?"  
"Well, I‟m going to cook a homemade American meal  
for Dmitry, and Renée is coming over. And I thought that  
it would be nice if we all had dinner together."  
Anatoly scratched his stubby beard. "I don‟t know,  
I…"  
Dmitry's Closet  
159  
"Please," Royal said, grabbing his hand. "It would  
mean a lot to me."  
"Are you trying to hook me up with black girl in your  
shop?" he smiled.  
"No," Royal laughed. She was taken back by his ability  
to have a conversation about something normal. "Why?  
Do you like her?"  
"Net…no," Anatoly said, shaking his head. "I just want  
to make sure that this is not love connection."  
"No, this is not a love connection. It‟s just four people  
getting together for Thanksgiving dinner." Royal tried to  
close the deal. "So, can I count on you?" Her voice pitched  
higher. "What do you say? You might have some fun."  
Anatoly looked across the back yard as he made his decision.  
"I say…okay. How bad can you‟re cooking be, eh?"  
"Great!" Royal jumped a little, happy that he accepted  
her invitation. "Dinner will be at four, so don‟t run off."

The fall leaves swept across Cory‟s feet as he trotted  
down Union Avenue in a pair of blue Adidas breakaway  
pants and a University of Memphis pullover. Having the  
Thanksgiving holiday off, he celebrated by taking his  
coveted 4-mile run near his midtown apartment. There  
were dark, low-level clouds blanketing the skies and promise  
of a heavy afternoon rain. He only hoped that he could  
finish his errands before the storm began.  
Stopping at Smoothie Queen on corner of Union Avenue,  
he stretched out his legs and went inside to grab a  
protein shake. A tall, muscular Italian man in a Best Daddy  
In the World t-shirt and a Miami Dolphins baseball cap sat in  
the corner of the shop reading a Flex magazine. He and  
Cory made eye contact, and the man gave him a nod.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
160  
The shop was empty with only a bald, bulging black  
man in a white apron behind the counter. Cory quickly  
ordered and made his way over to the table adjacent from  
the man.  
"You got a tail?" the man asked, turning the page of his  
magazine.  
"Nope," Cory said, looking out the window.  
"Alright. We‟ve got 15 minutes. Give me an update."  
"Umm, let‟s see." Cory sighed. "Royal is still living in  
Dmitry‟s house. From what I can tell, nothing illegal is  
going on over at the boutique, but I can‟t be 100% sure  
because of the locked door that leads to the basement.  
From what I can tell, Dmitry won‟t let anyone do business  
there. The restaurant is where all the big deals pass  
through, but they clean it for bugs and check for wire taps  
daily. Dmitry‟s still first in charge, and Anatoly is still  
second, but Dmitry‟s brother Ivan is closing in. There‟s  
some real bad blood between the two of them."  
The man looked over at Cory and sighed. Closing his  
magazine, he leaned over across the table; his large muscular  
forearm was covered in tattoos and a dark tan.  
"Hamilton, you aren‟t telling me anything that I don‟t  
already know. Hell, I could get that Intel from my kids. We  
sent you in to give us the real insight. You gotta find a way  
to get deeper inside and get in that damned basement."  
"Lou, I‟m fucking trying," Cory said frustrated. He  
scratched his head. "I don‟t want to jeopardize my cover."  
"I‟m not asking you to do that," Lt. Agosto said, looking  
around. "Look, you‟re right. Ivan is definitely making  
moves. We‟ve got credible sources that say that he moved  
in a shipment of girls to Memphis within the last week to  
start up a whore house here. Now, before this, Dmitry  
Dmitry's Closet  
161  
never dabbled in human trafficking. He‟s a guns and drugs  
type of guy. But if he‟s changing his inventory…"  
"I don‟t think so," Cory interrupted. "This sounds  
more like Ivan trying to carve out a new niche for himself."  
"Well, we need to divide and conquer. So, I need them  
to go at each other‟s throats. Maybe then, we can get one of  
them to give us something more. Fucking Kirill got  
popped, and he was our only lead."  
"I was close to a confession in the boutique, but they  
were talking pretty low. They said it was a suicide that  
happened in the basement, but they didn‟t‟ say where."  
"Close is no cigar." Agosto patted Cory on the back.  
"What about Royal? Does she suspect anything yet?"  
"No, she‟s totally clueless. I keep trying to get her to  
open her eyes, but she doesn‟t want to. She‟s in love with  
him."  
"There‟s no way that it could be a cover?"  
"No."  
"Look, you‟re doing a good job, but what I need you to  
do now is help me figure out how to get the ball rolling  
between these two. If the blood is as bad as you say it is, it  
won‟t take much. We need that to happen."  
"They‟re Vor. I don‟t think that they‟ll turn."  
"That‟s what they said about Kirill." Lt. Agosto‟s voice  
turned to a whisper. "Look, there‟s something else," he  
sighed. "We‟ve got a leak."  
"What?" Cory rubbed his forehead. "No, no. Lou,  
I‟ve got a family, I can‟t…"  
"We‟ll find out who the bastard is," Agosto tried to  
calm him. "Someone told Dmitry about Kirill. I just have  
to figure out whom."  
"It could have been a leak with the feds."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
162  
"I‟m not taking any chances, which is why I wanted to  
meet you here."  
"I see you brought Patton." Cory lifted his brow at the  
black man standing behind the counter. "Where is the real  
cashier?"  
Lt. Agosto smiled. "This is Patton‟s wife‟s store. He  
actually runs it on the weekends. It‟s no cover. Can you  
imagine someone trying to hold up this place? They walk in  
and this motherfucker‟s got two Glocks under the counter  
and a bad case of the rages from coming off one of his  
steroid cycles."  
They all laughed. The man behind the counter gave  
them the finger as he sipped on a protein shake.  
"Screw y‟all. This shit is natural," Patton said, flexing  
his 23 inch arms.  
"Okay, we really believe that," Agosto said, sarcastically.  
He turned his attention back to Cory. "You worry about  
getting me the information, and I‟ll worry about the leak.  
Hopefully, we‟re approaching the end of this soon." Lt.  
Agosto gave him a small leather satchel. "See if you can  
place these in the restaurant or the boutique again. Who  
knows? We might get lucky. Also there‟s a jump drive in  
there with the pictures of the girls from the whore house.  
Memorize their faces just in case they end up at the boutique  
for clothes or at the restaurant. Alright."  
"Alright," Cory said, taking the satchel. "You know, if  
you want to set them up against each other, you might start  
by approaching Dmitry about the whorehouse. I‟m sure he  
doesn‟t know."  
"Okay. I‟ll take your advice on that."  
"How‟s my family?" Cory‟s face became solemn. He  
missed his wife and two kids.  
Dmitry's Closet  
163  
"I went by to see them a few days ago. They‟re doing  
great. I told Becca that you‟d be home really soon. She  
can‟t wait. The boys are being themselves. You know,  
being kids."  
"Lou, these men are heavy hitters. If they ever found  
out about me, they‟d go straight for my family."  
"They‟d have to get through all of us first, man. It ain‟t  
gonna happen. Patton has a house full of girls. I‟ve got a  
family at home too. Ivy‟s working on our third child, and I  
don‟t know what I‟d do without them. Look at me; I went  
from Armani to Gap, because I can buy everybody‟s stuff at  
the same place. Trust me. I know how much they mean to  
you. But we watch out for our own. I‟ve got a car on the  
house 24-hours a day and tail on kids and your wife when  
they leave. We know their every move."  
"Thanks." Cory finished his shake and slipped on his  
hood. "Till next week," he said, headed back out into the  
sprinkling rain.

Royal‟s Thanksgiving masterpiece was nearly ready.  
Renée helped her pull her ham out of the oven and put the  
garnishes on the plates. Carefully, she carried her dishes to  
the dining room, where she had taken extra care to make  
sure everything was as festive as possible.  
The men sat obediently in the entertainment room  
watching a football game and talking to one another.  
Dmitry could smell the food wafting through the house.  
There were interesting soul food smells, unlike the ones  
from his restaurant all around him. His stomach rumbled  
loudly, but Royal wouldn‟t let him eat a thing until dinner.  
"She‟s going all out for you," Anatoly said, not taking  
his eyes off the game.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
164  
"Royal is good girl that way." Dmitry looked back behind  
his chair to make sure that no one was behind him.  
Then he turned to his son and leaned over. "She saw the  
newspaper this morning. Conners was in it."  
"Did she know that it was you?"  
"No. Why would she?" His voice was nearly a whisper.  
"She thinks that I‟m some kind of saint or something."  
"I don‟t know. Maybe you should tell her. She would  
probably appreciate it – this proves chivalry is not dead,  
eh?" Anatoly smirked.  
"You don‟t know anything about women. If I told her,  
she would go insane."  
Anatoly ignored his father‟s concerns about Royal. "I  
know a thing or two about women."  
"Two things...hardly impressive." Dmitry sat back in  
his seat.  
"Do you think that she knows yet about the other  
thing?" Anatoly whispered.  
"No," Dmitry said, looking behind him again. "Enough  
talk about her. Let‟s talk about you. Did you give any  
thought to what I said to you?"  
Anatoly sighed. "I‟m not meant for college, Papa. I  
have no desire for it. I enjoy what I do here."  
"You really enjoy it?"  
"Yes. Don‟t you?"  
Dmitry shrugged. "I‟ve excelled in it, but if I could do  
it all over again, I would only have my shops."  
"You keep shops. I was born a Vor."  
Dmitry raised his brow at his son. "Such over exaggerated  
enthusiasm would be better used on your girlfriend  
not on your tired, retirement-bound father."  
"What is all this talk? Where are you going?" Anatoly  
sat up in his seat.  
Dmitry's Closet  
165  
"No where, but everyone has to have plan B, dah? I  
have told you this many times."  
Anatoly looked at him suspiciously.  
Royal walked to edge of the stairwell and smiled at the  
men. She was finished cooking her first Thanksgiving  
dinner for her first ever pseudo-family. She wore a large,  
proud grin and pink apron. Renée stood behind her,  
awaiting her announcement.  
"Gentlemen, dinner is served," Royal said, clapping her  
hands.  
Dmitry and Anatoly turned around in their chairs. That  
was evidently their queue to head to the dinning room.  
Dmitry led by turning off the television and making his way  
with his box of Kleenex up the short stairway to her. He  
leaned down and kissed her head.  
"Show me what you‟ve been up to for half the afternoon,"  
he said, a little excited.  
The walnut dining table covered in crystal sat under yet  
another beautiful Italian-inspired chandelier. Around an  
extraordinary bouquet of roses was a full meal of dressing  
and gravy, ham, mixed greens, green beans, sweet potato  
pudding, warm biscuits, wine and champagne.  
Dmitry stood at the head of the table, lost for words  
and extremely impressed.  
Royal could not control her smiles by this point. She  
looked over at Renée proudly, glad that her new friend had  
gotten out of the bed and helped her on this very important  
occasion.  
"Dmitry, do you wanna say grace?" she asked, standing  
beside him.  
"Grace?" Dmitry asked, a little confused. No one had  
asked him that since he was a boy in school.  
"Dah, grace?" Royal mimicked.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
166  
"I‟m Catholic. Are you?" Dmitry realized at that very  
moment that they had never discussed their religion.  
"I‟m familiar," Royal said, bowing her head. She made  
the sign on the cross and closed her eyes.  
Dmitry looked over at Anatoly, who smirked and followed  
Royal‟s lead. He had never heard his father pray  
aloud.  
Dmitry felt a sudden serge of discomfort. Sure, he did  
it in the privacy of his home, where no one would see and  
mistake his religion for weakness, but he had not prayed in  
front of anyone since he was ten when his mother had been  
beaten badly by a john, who left her on their doorstep  
covered in blood. He prayed for her then, aloud, so God  
would hear him and protect him and Ivan, but not since  
then. She died on those steps.  
"Very well," Dmitry said, clearing his voice. He made  
the sign of the cross and began to pray. There was something  
strangely normal and liberating about what Royal had  
asked him to do. He prayed aloud the words that he had  
whispered near his bed many nights before. He prayed for  
his son, for Royal, for himself.  
"Amen," they all said, a little shook up by his kind  
words, his soft tone, and his humble actions. Royal wiped  
her eyes and reached over to give him a kiss.  
"Happy Thanksgiving, baby," she said as she pulled the  
seat out for him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 13  
Later that evening, after the food had been eaten, the  
wine bottles emptied and the company had gone, Royal lay  
relaxed in her favorite tub. It was a classic creation – cast  
iron, gloss gold enamel on the outside and beautiful gloss  
white enamel on the inside with beautiful golden brass claw  
feet. It sat in the middle of the bathroom surrounded by  
twenty square feet of black marble flooring, accented by  
two beautiful, petite water basins and a very large shower in  
the corner, big enough to fit ten people in that doubled also  
as a steam room. When Dmitry purchased the house, the  
tub had come with it, but he was too large of a man to ever  
use it. So it had sat untouched until she moved it.  
Dmitry had set candles around their large bathroom to  
give the area a little ambience. He left her there soaking  
while he went downstairs to meet with a few of his men,  
who had stressed on the phone with him the importance of  
an emergency meeting. As usual, he had apologized for the  
interruption and promised not to be too long. However,  
Royal was certain that he might be gone the rest of the  
night.  
She finally got out and wrapped herself in the large terry  
cloth bathrobe. As she opened the door the bathroom, a  
peculiar feeling over took Royal. The room became blurry.  
She leaned against the post of the bed and looked over at  
the oversized fireplace that Dmitry had lit directly across  
from their bed. The wood crackled on the fire in the dark  
room. Silence was all around her. She felt as though she  
would faint. The heat from bathtub, the many glasses of  
wine and the heat from the fireplace were trying to overtake  
her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
168  
Shaking, she lay down in the bed and turned on the  
plasma flat screen mounted above the fireplace. She  
crawled to the middle of the king-sized bed and rubbed her  
hands over face. She had to cool off. Maybe, she was just  
overheated. Pulling the bulky robe off, she lay down naked,  
feeling the room spin around her. Her eyes closed.

Downstairs on the other side of the mansion, seven  
men sat in Dmitry‟s private study, near his fireplace in  
leather seats and drinking out of crystal goblets. They  
talked over each other, nearly arguing in Russian, back in  
forth with one another, while Dmitry stood looking out the  
window and listening. When he had heard enough, he  
turned around and spoke quietly, calming the men with his  
voice and his temperate demeanor.  
"This issue is no longer up for discussion," Dmitry said  
quietly.  
"The men sent from New York have done their part.  
It‟s time to send them back."  
"I‟m not convinced," Dmitry argued.  
"Our men can do the job better," one man argued back.  
"Unfortunately, they don‟t even know the routes. These  
other men have more control over our business than we do.  
That is absurd."  
"Your men?" Dmitry sighed. "I‟m not convinced that  
all of your men are loyal. I know that these ten are. You  
need to leave here and go and check your men, clean your  
houses. Someone else is communicating with the police.  
Until I know who is, I‟m going to see that these ten continue  
to do as they‟re told."  
"Our men have always been loyal," Vladimir, and older  
man of the counsel said.  
Dmitry's Closet  
169  
"True Vladimir. Your man have. Until I am sure that  
all men in this camp are as loyal as the ten that are out there  
right now – none of your men will be allowed to know  
anymore about the route. It‟s security for everyone. You  
should be thankful. It‟s not like you don‟t still get your  
cut."  
The men were quiet. Again, another person was talking  
to police. This had never happened in all the years that they  
had been in Memphis. Now, at least two incidents had  
happened in less than six months. They all looked around  
at each other suspiciously.  
"There is another thing to discuss," Vladimir continued.  
Dmitry raised his eyebrow.  
"We have the opportunity to move into larger investments  
with local bank in the area. It is failing and needs  
new investors. They have approached us with offer.  
However..."  
"The key word is failing, Vladimir. We don‟t want to put  
money into a slow sinking ship."  
"We can turn the bank around and take larger control of  
the business in order to launder our money better."  
Dmitry was silent for a minute.  
"And they came to us with offer?" Dmitry asked curiously.  
"With offer we cannot afford to ignore, Dmitry."  
"Ignore it," Dmitry ordered. "If it sounds too good to  
be true, it probably is. My sources have told me that the  
FBI is investigating four banks here. They probably pushed  
one of them to make offer to us in exchange for break for  
leniency."  
"Well, we‟ve discussed the need for new revenue  
streams. I am just trying to find new ways."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
170  
"And we will have our people meet with the accountants  
to do just that, but they will not be revenue streams  
with holes."  
"I mean no disrespect, Dmitry," another man said.  
"But you seem scared these days to take any risk that could  
bring the men money. Has that woman clouded your  
focus?"  
The room became quiet. Dmitry looked at the man and  
then at Anatoly. The veins in his neck started to show. He  
scowled like a vicious dog. Even the tailored oxford and  
sweater vest, the perfect hair cut and clean shaven face  
could not conceal his savage instinct.  
"There has only been one man in ten years who has  
gone to jail under my watch. How many families can say  
that? How many times have I protected your ass? I can‟t  
even count anymore. You all are allowed to marry and have  
children. You live in lavish homes and drive luxury cars no  
different than my own and yet you feel as though you can  
question me?"  
"Not all of us," Vladimir said, pouring himself another  
glass of scotch.  
"My focus has never been clouded, but my patience is  
starting to wear thin. If you get too damned comfortable  
talking to me, brother, I may be forced to cut out your  
tongue."  
The men silenced. Sensing that Dmitry was near one of  
his maniac-like episodes, they rested their collective case. It  
was settled. The men Dmitry called on to make the serge  
through Tennessee to secure their guns route would remain  
until further notice. Everyone except Ivan. The man that  
Dmitry wanted gone the most would be there indefinitely.  
Ivan stood up with smirk and excused himself from the  
group. Anatoly was standing at the door, as he tried to pass.  
Dmitry's Closet  
171  
"I need to use your restroom," he said, reaching for the  
knob.  
Anatoly looked over at Dmitry, who nodded to let him  
pass.  
"It‟s down the hall to the right," Anatoly said, opening  
the door but still watching him carefully.  
"You know, I‟d like to have a little butt boy like you to  
do whatever I say one day," Ivan said sarcastically. "How  
much do your services cost? Maybe I can write you check to  
come work for me? Take for instance now; I need someone  
to hold my big cock up for me in the restroom. You  
think you could manage that? It‟s quite heavy."  
"Down the hall, to the right," Anatoly repeated before  
he closed the door in Ivan‟s face.  
Ivan smirked and looked down the grand hallway illuminated  
by glass lanterns. He walked down the herringbone  
limestone floor, hearing his feet echo, looking at the  
painted wood molding over sage-colored columns and the  
Russian paintings.  
A house fit for a king, he thought to himself as he went  
inside the restroom. He closed the door and waited there  
for a minute. Checking his nose hair in the mirror, he  
turned on the faucet and let the water run. Then, he peeked  
out of the bathroom to make sure that no one had followed  
him. Slyly, he stepped out of the bathroom and closed the  
door, making sure to leave the water running.  
Quickly, Ivan headed up the back stairwell to the  
second floor of the house, memorizing the layout of the  
home. He checked each door, all left unlocked. Looking  
in, making note of each room, he made his way down the  
long hallway to the master bedroom.  
When he arrived at it, he looked back. There was a giddy  
thump of his dark heart. His long hand grasped the  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
172  
crystal doorknob and turned it slowly. He just wanted to  
see where they slept, where his relentless brother rested.  
Even lions had a den.  
The door opened without a sound, and the light from  
the hallway glittered in over Royal‟s naked body. He looked  
on hungry. She was asleep, thus vulnerable. A devilish  
smile crossed his lips. He opened the door a little more.  
She was so long, so shapely. His heart began to race. If he  
only had the time, he would do it now. Do her. But the  
clock was ticking.  
Crossing the threshold, he walked up closer to her. He  
had to get a better look. Her body slumbered with her back  
towards the door, still glistening with water. Her long hair  
fanned the pillow. The brown tips of her swelled breasts sat  
up invitingly.  
He walked up to the bed, hidden in the shadows of the  
room and stood over her, thinking of what he would do to  
her soon. For a moment, he was tempted to run his finger  
down the curve of her body, but he decided against it. If  
she woke up and screamed, he would have to snap her neck.  
That would ruin all of his plans. He finally looked over at  
the clock and crept back out, making sure to close the door  
behind him.  
When Ivan made it near middle way of the hallway, he  
saw Anatoly approaching. He stopped in his tracks and  
spread his arms wide.  
"This is very, very nice house my brother has, eh?"  
Anatoly looked down the hallway at Royal‟s closed  
door.  
"What the fuck are you doing up here?" Anatoly asked,  
reaching for his gun.  
"Relax. I just wanted to see his property. You know,  
he‟s never invited me over. Me. His own brother. It‟s no  
Dmitry's Closet  
173  
harm in looking right?" He walked towards Anatoly with a  
cocky swagger, a smug grin on his face. "Looking at all that  
he has acquired has made me realize that I must strive more  
for more."  
"Strive for getting your ass downstairs with the others,"  
Anatoly said, motioning at the back stairwell.  
As Ivan headed back to the men, Anatoly went to the  
master bedroom door and opened it. He saw Royal lying  
there – still breathing most importantly. Quickly, he closed  
the door and shook his head in disgust. Ivan had seen her.  
He was sure of it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 14  
Dawn emerged from the horizon, casting a small translucent  
glow into Dmitry‟s bedroom. Unable to sleep, he  
laid in the bed looking at the fireplace and listening to the  
crackling of the embers thinking of all that was required of  
him this day.  
Royal lay curled under him, wrapped in his embrace,  
asleep and protected. He raised her chin to see her glowing  
face. She barely moved but smiled as she dreamed. He  
rubbed her chin softly and kissed her forehead. Finally,  
carefully, he pulled his large body away from her satin-like  
naked skin. It was becoming harder and harder to do.  
Every morning, when he woke, she was there faithfully  
with him. Where he used to jump up and seize every day,  
now, he only longed to be with her – his perfect Royal  
Flush.  
Tucking the silk silver sheets around Royal‟s body, Dmitry  
stood naked by the side of the bed watching her sleep.  
Had he the time, he would wake her in his usual fashion,  
with soft kisses, massaging her long, voluptuous body,  
urging her to make love to him so that he could start his  
day. But she looked so comfortable that he decided to  
leave her there, unbothered until the alarm sounded for her  
own day to start.  
Turning from Royal, he headed to the shower. As he  
turned, Royal‟s eyes opened, and she watched him quietly  
walk towards the bathroom door. His long, muscular body  
always fascinated her. She wanted to reach out to him and  
call him back, but she held her silence.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
176  
Instead she took a long deep breath of his pillow that  
smelled of his cologne and turned back into the softness of  
the bed to rest.  
Royal must have dosed off for quite awhile, because  
when she awoke again the alarm was sounding. She reached  
over to the night stand and hit the blaring machine. She  
laid her head back down on the pillow and watched Dmitry  
walk towards the bed, fully dressed. He smiled at her, and  
she sat up a little, covering her body with the sheet.  
"Good morning," she said, waving as she clutched the  
sheets.  
"You slept well, dah?" Dmitry asked, standing at the  
foot of the bed, smiling back at her.  
"Yep," Royal said, stretching her long body. She  
yawned. "You‟re off mighty early."  
"There is a lot to do." Dmitry pulled the comforter  
from the bed and grabbed a hold of the sheet. Pulling it  
down to him slowly, he watched Royal‟s body revealed. He  
swallowed hard as he looked at her.  
She lay with her elbows planted firmly into the mattress,  
her long legs crossed at the ankles and breasts exposed.  
Dmitry was silent, only talking to her through the sensual  
look in his eyes. He pulled the cover to the ground and  
reached out for her ankles. Pulling her body to him, he  
heard her giggle. He opened her legs and lay in between  
them, kissing a trail from her ear down to her neck.  
"I should brush my teeth," she said, trying to cover her  
mouth.  
"You taste wonderful," he said, pulling her hands away.  
He could feel her body coming alive with every kiss. She  
moaned a little, causing a stir in his pants. He kissed her  
shoulder softly then shifted his focus to her pouty mouth.  
Sucking at her bottom lip first, he then passionately covered  
Dmitry's Closet  
177  
her mouth. She kissed him back, lost in his embrace. Her  
long hands ran down his chest to his belt and unbuckled his  
pants. Eagerly, she pulled his pants down grabbing his  
exposed buttocks. His pants hit the ground, pooled around  
his ankles. Kicking them off, he crawled fully in the bed  
over her body and took off his jacket. Now, only in his  
white button down, he kissed her ankles and her feet as he  
stood on his knees in front of her.  
"I love you," she said sincerely, smiling and looking into  
his eyes.  
"Do you?" he asked.  
"I do," she said, shaking her head. "So much."  
"I love you, too," he said, running his hand up her long  
leg. "Lift your thighs," he said, focusing on her body.  
He pulled her to his growing erection and entered her  
softly. Her body arched as he did. She closed her eyes and  
opened her mouth. Biting her bottom lip, she reached out  
for him. He moved her hair from her face and kissed her  
lips again.  
"I‟m going to be late," he growled, laughing and rolling  
over in the bed with his hands on her hips.  
"Well, you should stop now, before you‟re late." Royal  
grabbed his face in her hands as she sat up on his thighs.  
Her long dark hair wrapped around her like a blanket.  
"Not going to happen," Dmitry whispered as he watched  
her move on top of him. He held her by her wide  
shapely hips and closed his eyes.  
"Open your eyes," Royal demanded. "I love to see your  
eyes." She adored the ice blue crystals that peered up at her  
with so much power and resilience. His look was the one  
thing that continued to devour her long after his touch.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
178  
Dmitry opened his eyes and looked at her sensually, his  
eyes rolling a little. "If I look at you, I may not be as late I  
as I could be."  
Royal laughed. "Open them still."  
"Alright," Dmitry sighed. He pushed into her body,  
holding tightly to her hips and pushing her down against  
him. Her hands sat atop his chest, her long legs planted  
beside him. He looked at her in sheer amazement. This  
creature making love to him was in part his own making.  
"One day." He rolled her over and lifted her leg over his  
shoulder. "One day, I‟m going to give you my son." He  
kissed her lips.  
"Anatoly?" she asked, confused.  
"No," Dmitry laughed. "I‟ll give you my second son.  
Here." He touched her stomach. "What do you think of  
that?"  
"One day, I think that I‟d like that," she whispered.  
"I‟d like that too," he said, kissing her wide inviting  
mouth again. "But for now, I‟ll settle for giving you  
orgasm."

Dmitry crossed the threshold of his home and closed  
the large wooden front doors behind him fully dressed in a  
tweed Burberry jacket, a crisp white Michael Bastian button  
down, Louis Vuitton jeans and a pair of vintage loafers.  
He looked out across his manicured lawn at the foggy,  
dark overcast. No sun would greet him to do his business  
today. There was no need for his shades or flip-flops. The  
weather was changing dramatically covering the city with  
cold winds, dreary skies and the closest resemblance of  
climate that he had to Moscow.  
Mexican lawn workers dressed in old tattered jeans and  
red cotton jackets edged Dmitry‟s massive lawn and cleaned  
Dmitry's Closet  
179  
up fallen leaves on his property while one of his men sat on  
the long porch rubbing the guard dog and watching them  
carefully. He looked over and nodded at the man, who  
immediately stood up.  
Dmitry never came out the front door. He normally  
went to the garage through the hallway leading from the  
kitchen. But today he was surveying -checking out what his  
staff was doing and how they were doing it. The maid had  
already cleaned up the food from the night before and had  
started coffee and breakfast for him when he arrived  
downstairs to grab his newspaper and check his emails  
earlier that morning. The grounds crew was doing their job.  
His man was up and guarding the front of premises.  
Overall, he was pleased.  
"Relax," Dmitry said, smiling at his guard. "I‟m just  
going to my car."  
"Yes, sir," the large, graying Russian said, pulling at the  
dog‟s chain to walk Dmitry around to the car.  
"No need," Dmitry said, opening his jacket just enough  
for the man to see his gun. "I remember time when I had  
no bodyguards, just balls and gun." He motioned for the  
man to sit back down.  
Walking along the manicured walkway, Dmitry made his  
way across the front of the house, to the garage. As the  
doors rose, he quickly jumped in his Mazarati and pulled  
out of his driveway.

Royal watched from the bedroom window as Dmitry  
pulled out of the gate. She was still naked, wrapped in the  
sheets that Dmitry had torn from the bed. Her mind was  
now drifting the to night before, when she had come down  
the back stairwell in the middle of the night and heard  
Dmitry speaking in Russian – screaming at Anatoly, screamLatrivia  
S. Nelson  
180  
ing at the men that guarded their home with a gun in his  
hand.  
They all stood stiff as board, evidently afraid of the man  
that she adored. She couldn‟t make out what he was saying  
to them, but she could hear that it was not good. She sat  
near the base of the stairwell as quiet as she possibly could,  
wrapped in their bed sheet listening – making out some  
words and completed missing others. The one word that  
she could understand was IVAN! Once she was sure that  
no one had seen her, she quickly made her way back up  
stairs, leaving him to his tirade.  
Now she was confused about what to say to him about  
his brother and her increasingly complicated life. Looking  
at her Rolex watch, she turned away from the window and  
went inside of the bathroom to get ready.  
After a quick shower, she walked into the large walk-in  
closet and circled the racks looking for something simple to  
put on. Even though she had access to every label in  
Memphis, she still liked understated elegance. Hair in a  
simple ponytail, she pulled on a black Ralph Lauren turtleneck,  
jeans, slipped on a pair of black boots and grabbed  
her RL Rickey bag.  
Her stomach growled as she headed down the main  
stairwell leading into the front foyer of the house.  
Quickly, she headed to the kitchen to grab an apple and  
found Anatoly sitting quietly looking at CNN on the flat  
screen mounted on the wall and nursing a cup of coffee and  
a bowl of corn flakes.  
"Hi," she said, trying to smile.  
Anatoly looked over at her but did not speak. Evidently,  
the good feeling of the Thanksgiving dinner the night  
before had worn off.  
Dmitry's Closet  
181  
Royal walked up to the table and grabbed a green apple  
out of the bronze bowl. She rubbed it on her pants to make  
it shine and sighed.  
"Is everything alright?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.  
Anatoly looked over at her from the television with a  
smirk on his face. Hunched over his food, he ran his spoon  
around the edge of the white porcelain bowl.  
"Does it have to do with Ivan?" she continued, when he  
did not answer.  
Anatoly still said nothing.  
"Don‟t you think yesterday was a lot more fun. We  
should communicate more…like normal people." Her  
words fumbled out. She was treading in new territory by  
trying to talk to him. He was like a statute most days.  
"Everything is fine," he finally said, tired of her whining.  
"Now was that so hard?" Royal asked, recognizing  
progress, even in small increments. "I‟m headed to the  
shop." Turning on her heels, she headed out the back hall  
to the garage but she stopped at the doorway. "Have a  
great day, Anatoly," she said, turning around to give it  
another try.  
Anatoly didn‟t take his eyes off the television. "I will."

Lt. Agosto and FBI Special Agent Danny Sorrello followed  
behind Dmitry in an unmarked, unwashed black  
Dodge Charger as he pulled into the Peabody Hotel valet  
parking area. Stepping out his conspicuous vehicle, Dmitry  
stretched and looked around, then proceeded inside to have  
a meeting with Omar Jackson, a well-known financial  
advisor.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
182  
Agosto turned off his car on the hill of the parking area  
and got out after Dmitry went inside of the doorway.  
Sorrello soon followed, putting away his half-eaten Portobello  
mushroom wrap. The two men had been following  
Dmitry since he pulled out of his driveway to various  
meetings all over Memphis with some of the most influential  
bankers in the city. This was the most activity that they  
had seen in nearly a year. Most of his meetings were out of  
the city and often out of their joint-task force‟s reach,  
especially when he chose to meet in London and Moscow.  
"Something big is going down," Sorrello said, closing  
the passenger door.  
"I don‟t get it. He never meets in broad day light and  
never this many meetings."  
"Reorganizing because of Ivan, I suppose," Sorrello  
concluded, pulling his leather jacket to ensure that his guns  
were concealed.  
"Let‟s take a walk inside and visit our old friend," Agosto  
suggested, hitting the alarm to the car.  
Dmitry had just ordered a nice early evening meal of  
fresh hearts of palm, Great Hill blue cheese and black  
truffle casserole, when Agosto and Sorrello interrupted him.  
They found him sitting at a small booth on the second  
level of Chez Phillipe restaurant nestled comfortably in the  
east wing of the hotel sipping on a glass of wine and reading  
the newspaper that he had neglected the entire day.  
It had taken Agosto and Sorrello showing both badges  
and one gun to get into the restaurant in their jeans and tshirts,  
since Chez Phillipe only allowed a minimum of  
business casual. Plus, it was only five o‟clock and the  
restaurant had not officially opened to the public.  
Dmitry ate alone, as he often preferred to do. The ambiance  
of the soft music, the strategic low lighting, beautiful  
Dmitry's Closet  
183  
rich fabrics and painting, regal French décor and marble  
columns throughout the fine dinning establishment fit  
Dmitry just right. Waitresses set down his drinks and  
picked up the extra placements quickly, but he never took  
his eyes off the newspaper.  
Lt. Agosto skipped the theatrics of making a scene and  
quietly had a waitress bring both he and Sorrello a chair.  
Dmitry finally looked up as she set the chairs in front of his  
table. He placed the newspaper on the white table cloth  
and sighed.  
"If I had known that you were coming, I would have  
ordered for you." He motioned at the chairs and invited the  
men to sit. "Please bring these men a bottle of your best  
wine," he said, sitting up a little from his slouched position.  
"You know we‟re on the job. We can‟t do that," Sorrello  
said, countering Dmitry‟s offer.  
"Speak for yourself. Bring me a glass of your best  
scotch. Keep the wine," Agosto said, looking at Sorrello.  
He raised his eyebrow and smiled. "What?"  
"Nicola, you still are drinking scotch?" Dmitry asked.  
"Still doing a lot of the same shit," Agosto smirked.  
"You too know each other," Sorrello asked, even  
though he already knew the answer.  
"Yeah, we used to know the same girl," Dmitry  
chuckled.  
"That was way back when you first came to Memphis,"  
Agosto reminisced. He looked over at Sorrello. "She was a  
Grizzlies dancer, very flexible."  
"Really?" Sorrello said, suggestively.  
"Only, I can‟t remember her name now." Dmitry  
looked at Agosto.  
"Me either. It was Karen or Keasha. I donno…  
something." Agosto shook his head.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
184  
"Miss, please bring him a scotch and water for the other  
gentleman," Dmitry said to the petite woman still standing  
by the table waiting with pen and pad. The woman scribbled  
something and quickly excused herself.  
Now alone, the three men convened an impromptu  
meeting at the dinner table. It was a strange sight to see.  
Each man was comparable in size and all three overshadowed  
the small table. They sat trying not to invade the  
other‟s space with their overbearing bodies crammed into  
the little area.  
"I can arrange for us to sit somewhere else," Dmitry  
noted.  
"Don‟t worry about it. We won‟t take up too much of  
your day." Sorrello shifted in the chair.  
"An innocent man would want to know what this is all  
about," Agosto said, softly. He looked up at Dmitry under  
long dark lashes, his brown eyes focused in on his new  
opponent.  
"My question was just about to be, tell what this is all  
about," Dmitry smirked. He looked back at him with an ice  
cold stare.  
Sorrello let Agosto take the lead considering that he  
had an established relationship. He watched as Agosto did  
his magic.  
Agosto tapped his fingers on the table before he began  
contemplating how to convey to Dmitry that he knew more  
than he actually did. "You‟re a very hard man to track.  
You‟ve been all over this city today, burning gas like its  
water. Hell, I had to run three red lights to keep up with  
you. I‟m surprised that you didn‟t get a ticket."  
Dmitry smiled and took a sip of his wine. "You followed  
me here to tell me to slow down?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
185  
"Come on, man." Agosto laughed. "I came down here  
to talk to you man-to-man about some shit going on around  
town that‟s got your name all over it."  
"Very suspect kinds of things," Sorrello added, eating  
one of the rolls in the basket on the table. Dmitry motioned  
at his own mouth, indicating to Sorrello that he had  
bread crumbs on his chin.  
Dmitry looked at Agosto and laughed. "Evidently not  
suspect enough for you to make an arrest, or I‟d be in  
custody already, old friends or not." Dmitry passed Sorrello  
a napkin and raised his eyebrow.  
Agosto laughed, revealing deep dimples in this welltanned  
skin. "Hey. You know me. I keep going until I get  
my guy."  
"Who are you meeting here today?" Sorrello asked interupting.  
"My financial advisor," Dmitry said, completely relaxed.  
"My stocks are in the toilet, but my off shore investments  
are doing great. I would like to move around a little capital."  
"By off shore, you mean your millions in pharmaceuticals  
in Switzerland or medical research in Belgium?"  
Sorrello asked, revealing his inept knowledge of Dmitry‟s  
private life and financial investments.  
"Both actually," Dmitry answered. "Sounds to me like I  
should have invited my lawyer, too. This could definitely be  
considered harassment, gentlemen. "  
"Well now, we didn‟t come here to harass you." Agosto  
took his drink from the waitress. "We came here to give  
you a heads up, if you‟re not actually a criminal."  
"I am no criminal." Dmitry confirmed. "Heads up  
about what?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
186  
"Well, we have received reports that a whore-house full  
of Russian beauties is being operated in one of your many  
homes in Memphis, and its being run by your baby brother.  
What is his name?"  
"Ivan?" Dmitry asked, intrigued. This was something  
new.  
"That‟s his name," Agosto said, smiling at Sorrello.  
"Ivan."  
Dmitry‟s calm was starting to show a tattering edge. He  
shifted in his seat a little. "I assure you that I don‟t deal in  
whores," he said, cutting his eyes at Agosto. His prominent  
strong jaw was clinched tightly together.  
"That‟s what I thought. I mean, you‟ve been here for  
every bit of ten years or more. How many times have the  
police ever accused you, of all people, of anything? You‟re  
a pillar of our community. A charitable, wealthy business  
man doesn‟t dabble in human trafficking." His voice was  
laced with sarcasm.  
Agosto slid him a picture of Ivan standing outside of  
one of his rental properties escorting a group of women  
inside. He gave Dmitry a smug grin. "So, I keep asking  
myself, „what the fuck is this then?"  
Dmitry‟s eyes snapped to the photo. His breathing  
slowed down more, to a calm even tone. "Gentlemen, I am  
afraid that I cannot tell you," Dmitry smiled.  
"Mr. Medlov, have you ever heard of a group called the  
International Law Enforcement Academy in Budapest,  
Hungary?" Sorrello asked.  
"I‟ve heard of it a few times," Dmitry sat back and his  
seat, still composed.  
"Most people haven‟t. It‟s a working group that focuses  
on international crime syndicates like the Eurasian trash that  
we keep linking to you, and they discuss you pretty often  
Dmitry's Closet  
187  
along with a larger Eurasian working group that has been  
curious about your global operations." Agosto injected.  
"Like I said, I‟ve heard of it. It‟s no secret. You can  
Google it, you know."  
"You know, I worked my entire life because of my  
family‟s money and my ethnic background as an Italian  
American to disprove all the rumors and assumptions that  
because I had a vowel on the end of my name, I had to be  
mafia."  
Agosto and Dmitry locked eyes.  
"You didn‟t like the stereotype, huh?"  
"I despise it," Agosto replied. "But you seem to embrace  
it and meet all of the expectations of the label, man.  
You don‟t care that people look at you like you‟re some sort  
of animal."  
"When you‟re older, you‟ll realize that they look at you  
like that anyway. We are in Memphis, you and I. Sorrello,  
you too. Though I get the feeling that you are more of a  
blunt object that Agosto." Dmitry smirked and took a sip of  
his water. "It‟s doesn‟t matter if you have big millions or  
little millions, Agosto. You‟re still foreign to this place, still  
different and everything you do, including race-mixing is  
wrong. You and I have a lot in common, don‟t we?"  
"No, I don‟t think that we do."  
"All they‟d have to do is prove that those women are  
there involuntarily." Agosto confirmed.  
"Well, they are not their involuntarily," Dmitry said  
calmly.  
"You had better hope that no one says otherwise,"  
Agosto spoke under his breath.  
"Why are you giving me this heads up?" Dmitry slid the  
picture back to Agosto, having immediately recognized the  
property.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
188  
"Just want you to get your house in order – that‟s all,"  
Agosto said, drinking the entire glass of scotch. He set the  
glass down gently on the table and stood up. "We know  
that you are a good guy and couldn‟t possibly know what‟s  
going on. We just came here to tell you what the rumors  
were and to make sure that you had no hand in this." Both  
Agosto and Sorrello looked down at Dmitry.  
"I assure you that I‟ve had no hand in this. What do I  
owe you gentlemen for such a kind gesture?" Dmitry asked,  
hands crossed and eyes focused. His voice barely rose.  
"Nothing at all. Consider it a gift," Agosto said, putting  
his coat back on.  
"I will remember this favor," Dmitry said, trying to control  
the fire coming from under his collar.  
The two men left as quickly as they had come, passing a  
black man in a nice business suit, whom they were sure was  
Omar Jackson, arriving for his meeting with Dmitry. After  
they entered back into the hotel lobby, Sorrello looked back  
to make sure that no one was following them.  
"That is one magnificently cold-hearted bastard up  
close," Sorrello said, checking his cigarette patch to make  
sure that it was still on his arm. Suddenly, he was craving a  
cigarette.  
"It‟s the eyes. They don‟t even look like their supposed  
to be on a human."  
"Cause he‟s not human. So, what do you suppose he‟s  
thinking?"  
"Are you kidding? He wants to kill his brother. Put  
that tail on him now. He doesn‟t even care that we‟re  
following him. He‟s going straight to Ivan after he finishes  
with Omar," Agosto said, sure of himself.  
"He didn‟t flinch once."  
Dmitry's Closet  
189  
"Cause he knows that we don‟t have shit," Agosto said,  
hitting the alarm for his car. "It‟s a shame. All of this work,  
for all of these years, and we still have nothing."  
"I‟ve never seen anything like it."  
"Me either. He‟s one of the best."  
"If not the best…"  
"Dmitry has run this whole operation without so much  
as one hiccup for years, but we may have hope now because  
of his black sheep brother Ivan. As soon as he showed up,  
shit went south. I just know that he‟s going to teach him a  
lesson, though. He knows that we‟ll barely have a case with  
these prostitutes, but now, if Ivan slips and gives us something  
on the gun trafficking, we‟ll have a stone clad case  
against the entire organization."  
Sorrello spat on the ground. "Fucking Vory."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 15  
Black Friday had been a hit for Dmitry's Closet. Royal,  
Renée and Cory nearly emptied their summer collection as  
well as their clearance fall items. The boutique had been  
crowded since it opened early that morning and had kept a  
constant flow of traffic the entire day. Now, as the night  
settled in, Cory escorted the last customer to her car while  
Royal counted down the drawer. Suddenly, the phone rang.  
Renée answered, listened to the caller and quickly brought  
the phone over to Royal.  
"Who is it," Royal asked, trying not to lose count of the  
large wad of money in her hand.  
"Dmitry," Renée answered, putting the phone to Royal‟  
s ear.  
"Hello," Royal said, putting the money down.  
"I‟ll be late coming home," Dmitry said, shifting gears  
in his car. "I‟ve got couple of more things to handle."  
"Okay, baby." Royal could since trouble in his voice.  
"What‟s wrong?"  
"Nothing," Dmitry said quickly.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Dah," Dmitry said, focused on the streets as drove  
quickly down the winding back path of Main Street to his  
brother‟s house.  
"Okay," Royal sighed. "I‟ll see you later then."  
"Is everything cool?" Renée asked, as Royal hung up the  
phone.  
"Yeah. He‟s just busy." She looked up as Cory walked  
back in the front door. "Lock the door," she ordered as she  
picked up the money again. "I have to hurry up with this.  
Anatoly will be here in a minute to pick it up."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
192  
"Man, we made a killing," Renée said, astonished at the  
huge wad of money.  
"I know, girl. This is only one handful. I‟ve got a ton  
of credit card receipts, checks…everything."  
"Anatoly isn‟t here yet?" Cory asked, looking for Royal‟s  
bodyguard.  
"He just called and said that he was on his way." Royal  
said, counting the money out. "Give me a minute. I just  
need to make sure that this is right." She counted out the  
money quickly and bagged it with the receipt. "Damn, that  
is the most we‟ve made since we opened."  
Just then Anatoly came in the back door in a black suit.  
Everyone watched on amazed. All anyone had ever seen  
Anatoly wear were jeans and t-shirts. Never a suit. Now,  
he looked a lot like his father.  
Cory looked at him suspiciously as Anatoly passed him.  
He made his way to the cash register with Royal and walked  
behind the counter.  
"You look nice," she said smiling. "What‟s the occasion?"  
She held the bag of money in her hand.  
"No occasion." He reached for the bag.  
"Bullshit." Royal pulled the bag away. "What gives?"  
Anatoly reached over without a smile and scowled at  
Royal. "Give me bag, woman."  
"Tell me what gives," Royal smiled. "You look like a  
million bucks. I wish that Dmitry could see this. He‟d be  
so proud."  
"Spasiba," he said, growling. "Now, give me bag."  
"Oh, alright," Royal said, finally giving in. He took the  
bag carefully out of her hand and smiled at little at her.  
"You really think it looks nice."  
"I think you look dreamy," Royal said smiling. "Really."  
Dmitry's Closet  
193  
Remembering himself, Anatoly cleared his voice. "I  
have to go. Make sure that someone escorts you to car."  
"I will. I know the drill," Royal said, waving as he  
walked off.  
"He cleans up good," Renée said, watching him walk  
away. "I never realized how buff he is."  
"I know, right." Cory said, chiming in. "Too bad he‟s  
not swinging for the other team."  
"You never know," Renée added.  
"So, do you want to try on the new stuff that just came  
in from Milan?" Royal said, quickly changing the subject. It  
made her incredibly uncomfortable for the two of them to  
talk about Anatoly. For some reason, she was very protective  
of him, even though she was sure that he could take  
care of himself.  
"Oh, girl. I almost forgot." Renée said, grabbing her  
purse. "Let‟s go."  
"I‟ve got some stuff in the back. Let‟s close up shop  
here and go upstairs," Royal said, hitting the lights.  
When a new shipment of clothes came in, Royal and her  
staff always played dress up before they put the clothes on  
the racks. While Renée could barely afford the clothes,  
even with her fifty percent discount, Royal would seriously  
look at the clothes and buy the ones she thought were  
extremely complimentary to her body type. Cory always  
chimed in with advice on fit and look. While he was not a  
woman, he was a gay shopkeeper with excellent taste that  
both ladies valued dearly.  
They all went quickly up to Royal‟s old apartment and  
set the clothes out on the couch in the living room. Royal  
poured a glass of wine for each of them and stood by the  
fireplace laughing as they talked.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
194  
"Okay. So, do you want to try on the new Dolce or the  
new Armani?" Renee asked, salivating at the prospect.  
"Um, definitely the Armani for me," Royal said, unbuttoning  
her shirt. Taking off her shirt and sliding off her  
jeans, she stood in only g-string panties and a black lace bra.  
Renée walked over and passed her the black Armani dress.  
Cory sat sipping his wine and quietly watching on.  
There were some perks of pretending to be gay, like watching  
women strip nearly naked in front of him. He sat on the  
couch watching carefully as Royal slipped her long bare legs  
into the dress.  
Royal was absolutely beautiful. She had gotten undressed  
in front of him a hundred times, and with every  
inspection of her body, he‟d never seen one flaw. He found  
her fascinating and breathtaking, and if he weren‟t married  
and Dmitry not a cold hearted killer, he would have definitely  
pursued her.  
Renée had slipped and told him once that Royal was  
virgin before getting with Dmitry, which explained his  
boss‟s obsessive behavior and his constant protection of  
her. The news had hit him like a ton of bricks. It also gave  
him a new found respect for her. As beautiful as she was,  
she could have had any man or anything that she wanted  
long ago, but judging her choice for a first, she would have  
that anyway.  
"Cory, zip me up," Royal ordered backing up to him as  
he sat looking at her exposed rear end.  
After a few sips of wine, he felt like slapping her on the  
ass and leaning her over the end of the couch. Instead, he  
stood up behind her and zipped her up slowly, taking in the  
sweet smell of her perfume and soft fragrance in her hair.  
Dmitry doesn‟t deserve you, he thought.  
Dmitry's Closet  
195  
"There you go, girlie," he said, tapping her hip. "Slow  
down on the Twinkies. You‟re getting wide."  
"You really think so?" Royal asked, touching her hips.  
"Do I look really wide?"  
Cory sat back down and looked at her rear again. "Oh  
yeah." He took another sip of his wine.

Bone chilling winds whipped through the riverside as  
Dmitry pulled up and parked his car in the front of the  
luxury loft apartments overlooking the Mississippi River on  
Front Street. He made his way up the long stairwell quickly  
with long forceful strides.  
Arriving at the front door, Dmitry was greeted by two  
armed men who moved hurriedly to let him in and most  
importantly move out of his way. He walked in and made  
them stay outside guarding the door. The loft was empty  
with loud music blaring from the Bose surround sound. He  
closed the door and locked it behind him.  
Walking softly across the hardwood floors, Dmitry  
slipped up the stairwell leading towards the music to a halfopened  
door. He pushed the door open with his index  
finger. The bedroom was dark, illuminated by large candles  
and a large king-sized bed under a wall-to-wall window  
where Ivan lay with three women. One small blonde had  
straddled his chest and was kissing his mouth. The other  
small brunette had her back to the blonde and was bent  
down sucking wildly on his penis. The third woman lay  
beside the three of them, visibly high and disoriented.  
Dmitry walked into the room and closed the door. Instantly,  
all four looked at him. He took off his coat and  
rolled up the sleeves to his shirt. He smiled at the women  
and with a nod, walked up to the bed.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
196  
"Dmitry, what the fuck are you doing here?" Ivan  
asked, pushing the short women off of his body. "Here,  
you can have one if you like. I knew that Royal must not be  
too exciting," he laughed. "Good girls never are."  
"Speaking of Royal, I heard that you paid her a visit last  
night while she was a little indisposed as well. Figured, I‟d  
return the favor," Dmitry smirked.  
Ivan gave a devilish grin and lifted his brow. Utter defiance  
in his rebellious manner.  
Dmitry acted quickly. With the force of all his might,  
he plunged his fist into Ivan‟s face, punching him with  
precision, busting open his mouth and the side of his eye.  
Afraid, the women ran quickly to the other side of the  
room, except for the drunken redhead whom Dmitry threw  
out of his way as he snatched Ivan up. She fell to the floor  
and rolled under the bed where she stayed.  
"Get your fucking hands off me," Ivan said, trying to  
push Dmitry. He punched back, but Dmitry penned him  
down, pulled out the butt of his gun and punched him again  
in his face. The sound of the gun made a blood wrenching  
sound. When Ivan finally submitted, stopped moving like a  
smart victim under a bear‟s attack, Dmitry stopped. Breathing  
hard he stepped away and wiped the blood from his  
face.  
His voice was steady and low. "If I ever catch you near  
her again, I‟ll kill you." Dmitry said, spitting.  
The room was deathly still, music blared from the  
sound system. Dmitry turned from Ivan‟s naked, bloody  
body. He calmed himself. He caged the beast before he  
could spring forth.  
The women screamed as he approached, afraid not only  
of the bleeding man but of the bloody giant in front of  
Dmitry's Closet  
197  
them breathing heavily with the gun in his hand. Their  
screeching voices irritated Dmitry.  
"Shut up you fucking dumb bitches," Dmitry screamed,  
pointing the gun at them. "Get up and get the fuck out of  
here." They ran quickly to the door, naked and afraid,  
down the hall out of his site.  
Dmitry turned and looked back at Ivan. "And you,  
brother…"He grinded his teeth. "Get dressed and bring  
your fucking ass downstairs so that I can talk to you about  
your little whorehouse experiment." His voice was now  
calm and virtually quiet.  
Bloody, Ivan smiled cunningly and stood up. His  
naked body mirrored that of his brother, with not as many  
tattoos but just as many muscles. He grabbed his sheets  
and wiped the blood out of his face. "So that‟s what you‟re  
angry about?" He spat on the ground.  
"The whorehouse? Hell, I‟ll cut you in. It‟s not making  
much yet, but it will." He slipped on a pair of jeans and  
walked in front of Dmitry, who guided him with the nickelplated  
Glock down the stairs.  
"I knew you‟d be trouble when I laid eyes on you."  
"Do you want drink?" Ivan asked, walking into the  
black kitchen.  
"No," Dmitry said, looking at Ivan‟s home. "You live  
like shit." He cringed at the urban-like interior with exposed  
brick, black on black furniture and black appliances.  
"You sound like fag. Everyone can‟t live like king in a  
big fucking palace," Ivan said, pouring a glass of vodka. "I  
think you knocked my tooth loose." He rubbed his index  
finger across his shaky front tooth.  
"Good," Dmitry said, putting his gun back in his holster.  
He sat at the center island on a bar stool and looked at  
Ivan still bleeding badly.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
198  
"How did you find out? I‟m so curious."  
"It‟s my city. How did you expect me not to find out?"  
Dmitry asked.  
"I just wanted to prove to you that my plan could be  
lucrative first."  
"You just wanted to find something that you knew  
would make money fast without the Vory finding out."  
Ivan leaned over the island with the icepack to his head.  
"It had to be a cop who told you, eh? Come on. Tell me."  
"I am not without my resources." Dmitry sighed. "Get  
the girls out of that house tonight. Don‟t fucking kill them  
either. Give them few dollars and send them on their way.  
Burn the house down, just in case there is something  
incriminating there. Make sure it looks like accident, or I‟ll  
make you look like one."  
"I get the feeling that you don‟t like me."  
"Really? What gave you that impression?"  
"You think that Royal will leave you for me? She probably  
thinks that you‟re boring. All you ever do is mope  
around lamenting because of your pitiful conscious."  
Dmitry hit back. "I know of at least one person I‟m not  
sorry for killing."  
"Is that all?" Ivan asked irritated. The very mention of  
her got under his skin.  
Dmitry knew he had put Ivan in his place. "No that is  
not all. I‟ll figure out what I‟m going to do with you soon  
enough. For now, just make sure that you have the usual  
percentage into me at the next meeting, plus an additional  
thirty percent for my troubles."  
"That‟s nearly all of it," Ivan scoffed.  
"Good idea. Why don‟t I just take all of it," Dmitry said  
with his voice rising slightly.  
There was a long silence.  
Dmitry's Closet  
199  
"And as far as Royal…" Dmitry shifted in his seat.  
"How was I supposed to know that she was in there?"  
"You went looking for her?"  
"I was checking out the place."  
"Stop before you start, Ivan. I know you. You were  
casing the place and looking for her."  
"You have me all wrong," Ivan said, spiting blood into  
the sink.  
"I doubt that very seriously," Dmitry said, looking over  
at him expressionless. "Less you forget that I was the only  
father that you‟ve ever known. There are things that I still  
know about you…like when you‟re lying to me."  
"Well then, you were horrible father."  
Dmitry ignored him. "As far as Royal, you consider this  
your only warning. Any more pursuing her, and I don‟t  
even have to tell you what I‟ll do."  
"No, brother. You‟ve made it very clear," Ivan scowled.  
"Good." Dmitry stood up and took a deep breath.  
"No one told you to come here. You just have to accept it  
for what it is." He grabbed a towel and wiped the blood  
from his white shirt and slipped back on his tweed jacket.  
"Don‟t get up. I‟ll see myself out."  
"Do that," Ivan said, rolling his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 16  
Instead of Royal‟s cold getting better, by the day, it was  
only getting worse. Dmitry had stayed up with her the night  
before while she coughed and ran a ferocious fever. He had  
given her everything that he could buy over-the-counter.  
The results had not been favorable. She only coughed more.  
Tired and extremely worried, he finally rang his private  
doctor to come over and take a look at her.  
After the doctor prescribed a few antibiotics, Royal was  
sent back to bed under Dmitry‟s ever watchful eye. Royal  
had, of course, contested his decision that she was to stay at  
home and rest. She had argued that the shop would be  
open in a couple of hours, and she should go and just hang  
out upstairs in case anyone needed her. Dmitry had given  
her a stern look, an even sterner voice and escorted her  
back upstairs to the bed, where he tucked her in and  
insisted that she not step foot outside of their home until  
she was better.  
At first, Royal started to fight him on it. But alas she  
could not. He stood before her, unshaven, in a pair of jeans  
and a t-shirt from the day before and coughing a little from  
being exposed to influenza.  
Just let him take care of you, she said to herself as he  
pulled the duvet comforter over her legs. Without a word,  
he kissed her on her forehead and closed the door behind  
him, leaving her to watch Wendy Williams on the television  
and read fashion magazines. She smiled. It was nice to  
have him pamper her, but it was even nicer to watch her  
favorite daytime talk show host give the skinny on all the  
stars.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
202  
Barefoot and exhausted, Dmitry made his way back  
downstairs to his study, where he found his son filing away  
some papers. Anatoly looked up as his father entered the  
room but continued with his task. Looking back just to  
make sure that Royal had not followed him, Dmitry closed  
the door behind him and sat down in one of the large  
leather chairs to relax his aching body. He rubbed his  
temples and sniffled a little.  
"Good Morning," Anatoly said, initiating the conversation.  
"The sun is not even up yet, so why are you? Were you  
disturbed by Royal‟s cackling all night, too?"  
Anatoly smirked. "You know. This is first time I‟ve  
ever seen you take care of anyone except yourself." He slid  
the last of the files in the drawer and closed it.  
Dmitry sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "There is  
something about her… I cannot explain."  
"Maybe it‟s because she isn‟t a money grubbing whore  
like the women before her."  
"That could be," Dmitry sat up. "She wanted to go to  
work today – in the state that she‟s in."  
Anatoly leaned on the corner of his father‟s desk. "You  
sound surprised. This is Royal that we‟re talking about."  
Dmitry nodded in agreement.  
"I did as you asked," Anatoly said sighing. The conversation  
quickly changed. Dmitry stopped smiling and sat up  
in his chair.  
"And?"  
"There is more than one of these whorehouses. Ivan  
has more like ten."  
"Ten?"  
"There is more. Word on the street is that he‟s trying to  
negotiate with the Mexicans on an upcoming drug shipment  
Dmitry's Closet  
203  
of meth coming up the pipeline, and he‟s been seen with the  
owner of the Black Tie strip club. I think that he‟s pressuring  
him to sell."  
The news definitely bothered Dmitry, but he dared not  
show it. "Do you know why we have done so well for the  
last ten years, Anatoly?"  
"No. News of our unorthodox tactics got around?"  
"More than that." There was a twitch in Dmitry‟s eye.  
"It‟s because we found niche, and we did not bother to  
spread ourselves thin by doing more than the things that we  
were good at. Each of the original men who came to  
Memphis from Moscow or New York had strong background  
in gun running. Some of them had been rebels for  
legitimate causes in the motherland and others simply  
criminal minds with a hunger to get rich.  
"Now, weapons trafficking is not just about selling to  
thugs and funding street wars. We have an array of highend  
hunters who want untraced quantity, cops who want  
unmarked reliable guns, rednecks who stockpile for race  
wars, guns for hire who need professional grade munitions,  
ex-military who want the weapons they used in Iraq,  
aficionados who want them in the house for show and tell  
and heads of organized crime, who need them for protection."  
Dmitry smiled, as he watched his son soak up the  
information like a hungry sponge.  
"So you cut your market share by not expanding when  
you clearly had the man power, and this is a good thing?"  
Anatoly was perplexed. It didn‟t make much since to him.  
It never had. He had always wanted his father to expand  
the empire by selling more than just guns.  
"No. This is better than a good thing…it is smart thing.  
See, you have to know history of a place before you just  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
204  
come in and start to take it over. Do you know much  
about Memphis‟ organized crime families?"  
"Elvis, Bar-b-que, Three-Six Mafia rap group. What  
else is there to know?"  
"Much more, son."  
"Well, it‟s four o‟clock in the morning. Why don‟t you  
explain it to me? I have nowhere to be for hours." He  
tapped his finger on his watch.  
"Dah. I tell you all so that you are smarter than the next  
generation of Vor, and you lead best."  
Dmitry motioned at the chair across from him. Anatoly  
took off his suit jacket and sat down in the comfortable  
chair to listen to his father. He sat up attentively awaiting  
the knowledge that only Dmitry could share.  
"We came from different market. There was much opportunity  
when the Soviet Union fell. Those who were in a  
position to leave did. We went so many places before we  
came here, but the long and short of the route was Moscow  
to New York. When we got here, this area already had  
drugs and whores by the bus loads. Black and whites were  
shipping cocaine in from Mexico via Texas, heroine from  
Afghanistan, cooking and shipping meth and crack cocaine  
here locally and from the southern borders, getting marijuana  
and prescription drugs from Canada and California and  
home growing their own whores. We could not add any  
value to these things. Plus, the relationships were there.  
People had their supply chains set in stone."  
"What about other things?"  
"Other things? Chop shops are more risk than return.  
Pornography doesn‟t do it for me. We wanted something  
we could centralize and maintain for this area. Small dollar  
schemes are for armatures. Plus, we have lucrative businesses  
all over US and other countries.  
Dmitry's Closet  
205  
"Running numbers and the whole betting machine belongs  
to the Italians, and they took big hit when the casinos  
came to Mississippi. So they responded by clinching their  
unions tighter, increasing their chop shops and construction  
businesses and cutting into the drug market, which by the  
way, when we arrived here was basically run by three major  
drug dealers. One Italian and two blacks had the entire city  
locked down. Eventually the drug dealers got popped one  
by one and their investment bankers retired to nice locales  
in more tropical regions. All of this was due to a war  
between the blacks and the Italians that nearly lasted five  
years."  
"What started the war?" Anatoly asked.  
"The one Italian drug dealer wanted to expand more  
into areas that were not really the blacks‟ territory but not  
really his."  
"And the blacks pushed back?"  
"You‟re damned right. It was bloodshed on both the  
streets and in the police department. That‟s why Agosto  
and Brooks were named leads on the mayor‟s war on drugs.  
Agosto is Italian, and he‟s an implant to Memphis straight  
from Miami. Brooks was a native black with ties directly to  
the mayor, since both he and his father worked for him.  
"This union created by Mayor Henderson was to begin  
to develop a peace between Italians and blacks in the  
community. But people were pissed because Agosto and  
Brooks never once busted any large black or Italian drug  
dealers. They hit up a middle weight Hispanic drug dealer  
by the name of Caesar. Agosto ended up killing him in his  
own bedroom after Brooks was assassinated. When Brooks  
died, the city went insane on their drug witch hunt. And all  
sides went scrambling to take over Caesar‟s territory that  
was eventually divided by the black and Italians after a truce  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
206  
was called, but it‟s still mostly run by a Mexican cartel out of  
Mexico City, because there was big transition from crack  
cocaine to meth. You know, the economy is bad…"  
"So why didn‟t Vory use that opportunity to move in?"  
"Opportunity costs were too high. We had credible Intel  
from the feds that all parties were being watched carefully.  
However the ATF did not have a strong presence in the  
area. Now the fucking DEA was hopping all over this city.  
They had stake out on every corner. So, we opted to stay in  
guns, because it was safer. Plus the Hispanics, Blacks and  
Italians were shooting each other left and right, and we were  
the ones making a killing. Sure we have drug cartels and  
money laundering across the US, but we only handle guns  
here. A lot of Vory have gotten to the point that they don‟t  
even do business in their home cities. They just run things  
from a central base. It‟s safer that way. It never comes  
back on you."  
"Yeah. I heard you talking to the men about it. So with  
guns, you had neutrality?" Anatoly was much more interested  
in what market share they already controlled.  
"Exactly. Everyone came to us. And we had an understanding  
with all sides that we would sell to anyone with cash  
or goods to barter. Since that time because of our supply  
chain nationwide, we have amassed so much wealth it  
is…ungodly."  
"Selling to everyone didn‟t create a problem for you? I  
can‟t see how it wouldn‟t."  
"At first, it was hard to persuade them. And my old  
boss taught us to think through things with our minds  
before we resulted to guns. But when I saw that we  
couldn‟t reason with some of the groups, we brought in  
enforcers from Israel and Georgia and introduced them to  
what the Vory v Zakone was all about. Then people started  
Dmitry's Closet  
207  
to respect our territory. We showed up at people‟s jobs, at  
their homes, at their businesses. Then the extortion began  
and after that, it was almost total submission. They saw that  
no place was safe or sacred. Hell, once a man was cut from  
ear to ear outside of the police department. Unfortunately,  
they never got his cooperation."  
"So violence does work." It was one of Anatoly‟s most  
effective techniques.  
"Sometimes it works, but you will find my old boss‟ advise  
very helpful. Only young men like you roll heads. As  
you get older, the way that people can tell that you are  
leader is not by what you have to do but what you don‟t  
have to do. Anyway, we moved in quickly and knocked the  
small fish out of pond.  
"Most of the Vory that came down here had been to  
war and back. So, they lived and breathed the takeover. It  
took us seven months to kill the competition, set up our  
headquarters and start taking large orders for guns. The  
death toll was astronomical. But it eventually leveled off  
once people saw that we weren‟t after their drugs or whores  
or their cars or anything else. We just wanted to sell them  
some quality guns."  
"Just like that? Huh?"  
"Just like that," Dmitry said, quickly. "Now the importance  
of our legitimate businesses, which as you know go  
completely against our original code, is to launder money  
efficiently. All of us bought real estate, started business,  
and purchased stock, bonds and CDs. We washed the  
money clean through our intricate web of family businesses.  
In less than five years, we made millions on top of millions.  
Plus, every time the crime rate goes up in Memphis, not  
only home owners get guns, bad guys do too. So, we sell to  
everyone. Between the heads of the Memphis Vory, we  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
208  
have four guns shops here, two pawns shops, a shooting  
range, three restaurants, a tire shop, a beauty salon, a  
grocery store, six check cashing stores, four liquor stores,  
over 20 residential properties, an upscale boutique, seven  
commercial properties, and a fucking partridge in a pear  
tree. That, my son, keeps our shipments safe and legitimate.  
We ship guns, but not all of them are illegal. And when  
some young agent or hard-up cop wants to get hot on our  
trail, a friendly brother-in-blue gives us the heads up…for a  
fee, of course."  
"So, you‟ve always owned a few cops to give you the  
inside scoop?"  
"They are sometimes hard to find. But yes. A cop was  
the lead that let me know that Memphis was an untapped  
oyster for my business eleven years ago. He helped me get  
started here in exchange for us supplying his own little war  
against some very unwilling citizens that didn‟t want to sell  
their land to a major corporation that needed the land to  
expand."  
"How did you meet him?"  
"I was introduced to him while he was on trip to New  
York looking to acquire some hired help after he made the  
deal with corporation."  
"What happened to the cop? Is he still around?"  
"He retired once the land was acquired. Evidently, he  
got big, big cut from sale of the property because his wife  
was the land broker."  
"Does everyone retire?"  
"If you‟re lucky." Dmitry sighed. "If I am lucky."  
"So now we control the flow of guns into the city and  
out of the city for everyone, even North Memphis where  
the Hispanic gun traders had settled in and we have ten  
Dmitry's Closet  
209  
whore houses." Anatoly didn‟t see the problem, but would  
follow his father‟s lead.  
"Do I look like a fucking pimp to you? It‟s not my  
style. My mother was whore. She died in my arms on the  
steps of our home because of a John that both me and my  
brother knew well. It‟s not pretty business, and it‟s not  
business that has a great return. Munitions on the other  
hand, we have a lock on."  
"So what do we do about your brother‟s ambitious new  
businesses?"  
Dmitry looked his son in the face and smiled. "Burn it  
to ground. It‟s a matter of survival and none of our council  
has agreed to this new business of his."  
"I can see it. You‟re on the verge of a war with him."  
"The verge? My boy, we are battling every day. The  
biggest battle has just not begun yet."  
"Are you going to kill him?"  
"I don‟t know. I don‟t want to, but I fear that if he continues,  
as much as I love him, I will."  
"You should have me do it." Anatoly said eagerly.  
"You do not have your stars yet," Dmitry said absently.  
He could see that just the mention of that fact defeated  
Anatoly.  
"It is not for lack of trying."  
"You have proven yourself. Give me until the next  
meeting of the high council, and it will be done." Dmitry  
reached out and tapped his son‟s knee. "Now, I am going  
to hit my gym. Class is over. You get some rest."

It was mid-morning when Dmitry opened the door their  
bedroom carrying a large silver tray with a bowl of chicken  
noodle soup, a glass of orange juice and a flower. The sun  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
210  
beamed into the room and onto the bed where Royal was  
curled up under the comforter.  
She had dosed off to sleep again, completely drained  
from her constant coughing and the strong drugs the doctor  
had given her, but she quickly woke up when she heard his  
feet walking across the floor. She opened her eyes, looked  
up at him and saw small circles under his eyes. Maybe she  
needed to take care of him for a while.  
"Are you still running fever?" he asked, setting the food  
down on the large nightstand beside them.  
"I don‟t think so," she said, touching her own forehead.  
"I just feel stuffy."  
"I‟m going to use remedy on you that has worked wonders  
for me for years." Dmitry passed her the glass of  
orange juice.  
"What would that be?" She stretched out her long legs  
and moaned.  
"First you take hot shower; then you put Vick‟s vapor  
rub on your chest."  
"Oh, I‟ve done that before. Not for years, but I‟ve  
done it."  
"We do it today," he confirmed. "So eat your food."  
Dmitry stood up and walked into the bathroom, where  
she heard him turn on the jets to the shower. She grabbed  
the remote, flipped through her channels and suddenly  
realized that this was the first day in a very long time that  
she had been home during this hour.  
It was quite odd to her, how the sun shined through the  
blinds so bright and forceful. It was practically begging her  
to get up and go to work. It was also such a shame to waist  
a brilliant day of sunlight, even if it was freezing outside.  
But Dmitry would never let her go. He might, in fact, keep  
her longer if she pushed him. She huffed at the thought.  
Dmitry's Closet  
211  
Submitting to his relentless will, she grabbed her bowl  
and spoon and ate just enough of the soup to make her  
throat feel better then pulled herself out of bed. Shedding  
out of her heavy University of Memphis pullover and  
jogging pants, she walked into the bathroom in her panties  
in bra, where she found Dmitry leaning over the sink  
shaving.  
He looked over at her through the mirror and then motioned  
for her to get into the water.  
"Breathe in fog once you‟re in there," he said as he  
tapped his razor against the porcelain bowl. "It will open  
up your passages."  
Running his razor through the stream of water coming  
out of the faucet, he lifted his neck and let the long fourpronged  
blade gently glide the length of his lower chin and  
neck.  
Royal took off her panties and bra and placed it in the  
wicker hamper, and then opened the large, smoked glass  
door to the box-like glass shower room where water shot  
from the many jets shot straight into her from every  
direction. Taking deep breaths as Dmitry instructed, she  
grabbed a bottle of tea-tree shampoo and washed her hair.  
The steam enclosed the room, hiding her from Dmitry‟s  
view, and the hot water soothed her aching body and her  
congested chest.  
Now cleanly shaven, Dmitry opened the door and  
dropped his towel. Entering into the shower room, he  
grabbed the soap and walked up beside her. Running his  
hands over the knobs, he adjusted his jets to his own  
temperature and pressure.  
Royal eyed him while she rinsed her hair. His large  
frame towered over her, and even with his wall-like back  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
212  
turned away from her, she could see his magnificent  
sculpting from every angle. She tilted her head a little to get  
a better view, but he turned enough to catch her peeking.  
Rinsing the soap from his face, he pulled her over to him  
and stood in front of her, hiding her from view.  
"You‟re supposed to be sick" he said smiling.  
He knew Royal‟s devilish look. The cascade of water  
ran over his body, flattened his normally curly hair. She  
watched as the water glistened on his wet skin. Instinctively,  
she ran her hand down the front of his marble chest.  
"Then make me feel better," she whispered, moving in  
closer to his body.  
Dmitry ran his hands through her soapy hair and pulled  
her in front of jets to rinse her off. The water covered her  
face and caused her to tilt her head back. She could feel  
the warm water and his large hands on her head rinsing her  
clean. With her eyes closed, she felt Dmitry‟s hungry lips  
meet hers. He kissed her softly, exploring the soft ebb and  
flow of her lively tongue. She could taste the minty freshness  
of his toothpaste and feel the warmth of his full lips.  
He held her face in both of his hands as he bent over to  
her. She bit his lips playfully and smiled as he pulled her  
out of the water.  
"Come on. I‟m going to dry you off before you get  
worse." He opened the door to the shower and handed her  
a large towel to dry off.  
"But I thought you said that you would make me feel  
better?" She wrapped the towel around her body and  
followed him out into the bedroom.  
"I never said that, shop girl," he said, going to his large  
armoire to pull out a clean pair of underwear.  
Royal lay back on the bed in her towel, placed her feet  
on the side rails of the bed and looked at the ceiling fan.  
Dmitry's Closet  
213  
She wasn‟t sure if she was overheated from the shower or  
the man. Raising her head, she looked over at him as he  
slipped on his jogging pants.  
"Do you feel ill again?" he asked.  
"Just weak."  
"In your state, why do you want me to make you feel  
worse?"  
"You won‟t," she leaned over on her side and watched  
him walk up the bed.  
"I will, and you know it." He crawled in the bed beside  
her and grabbed the remote.  
"Are you going to tease me all day?" she asked, taking  
her eyes off him and concentrating on the television.  
"Are you going to pout all day?"  
"I may." She crawled back out of bed to get dressed.  
When she returned, Dmitry had the bottle of Vick‟s vapor  
rub. Rolling her eyes, Royal sat near the opposite edge of  
the bed in one of his tailor-made dress shirts and checked  
her cell phone.  
Dmitry watched her pouting and laughed a little.  
Reaching across the bed, he pulled her to him, straddled her  
over his lap and slipped his hand under her shirt. She  
watched curiously as his hand landed in between her breasts  
with a palm full of salve. He rubbed it into her skin softy  
and tapped her on her nearly exposed behind.  
"Lie down and rest," he said.  
"But I can feel that you want me," she said, rotating on  
his growing erection.  
"But you‟re sick and you need to get well first." His  
breathing was growing sporadic watching her seduce him.  
The swell of her breast was showing slightly at the top of  
the unbuttoned shirt, and her nipples pressed out against  
the fine cotton. Had she not been sick, he would have  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
214  
already bedded her but decided against it with her fever  
rising by the minute. He could feel the heat between her  
thighs. She needed rest and medicine not what he so  
desired to give her.  
Pouting again, she scooted down in the middle of the  
bed and put her legs under the cover. As he reached over  
to kiss her on the forehead, she sneezed.  
"Told you," Dmitry said tauntingly.

Cory could not recall a day that Royal did not come into  
the boutique. She must have either been really sick or  
Dmitry really insistent. Either way, this gave him the  
perfect opportunity to get downstairs in the basement. To  
ensure that he had enough time, he had sent Renée on a run  
for lunch, office supplies and to drop off a package at the  
post office. She‟d be gone now at least an hour. As soon  
as she pulled off, he closed the shop and headed to the back  
office.  
Digging into the pocket of his tight and very uncomfortable  
khakis, he pulled out a small piece of paper with a  
code. He typed the numbers into the security device and  
saw the red light turn green. He quickly opened the door  
and headed down the dark staircase.  
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he ran his hands  
against the wall until he found the light switch. As he hit it,  
the large lower room illuminated. It was empty with the  
exception of a large bed, a standing mirror, a flat screen  
television mounted on an opposite wall and a dresser. In  
the far corner of the airy space sat a large surveillance center  
with monitors all over various establishments of Dmitry‟s  
including Mother Russia, the boutique and the front and back  
entrance of his home.  
Dmitry's Closet  
215  
He looked at his watch and realized that he didn‟t have  
much time. Pulling open the file cabinet in the corner, he  
looked for the surveillance footage from the last week. He  
needed to find out what was going on with Ivan. Maybe  
these tapes would tell him more about his whereabouts.  
Carefully, he placed dated CDs on the table and made  
copies on the small laptop on top of the desk. He tapped  
his foot impatiently as the copies were generated to his  
jump drive. Taking them one by one out of their plastic  
protective coverings, he slid them into the computer and  
downloaded the information.  
When he finished, he picked up the handful of CDs to  
take them back to the cabinet and clumsily dropped them  
on the floor. He huffed under his breath, and then quickly  
tried to gather them up in his arms. As he stood, he heard  
footsteps coming down the stairs. His heart began to race.  
He grabbed the handle of the file cabinet and dropped  
the CDs back into their original file. He knew that he did  
not have a gun. So he looked around for a weapon.  
Skimming the room, the one thing that stuck out was the  
bed. He ran over to it and ran his hand under the railing to  
find what he was looking for…a weapon. Sliding the  
compact oozy from the Velcro enclosure, he walked up  
slowly to the door and pointed it.  
The final footstep landed on the ground anchored by a  
large leather loafer. From the shadows, Dmitry stepped out  
of the doorway and looked over at Cory, who stood with  
the gun pointed.  
"Shit, Dmitry. You scared the shit out of me," Cory  
exhaled, putting the gun down.  
"How did I scare you? You‟re supposed to be cop for  
Christ‟s sake," Dmitry smirked, making his way across the  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
216  
room to the surveillance equipment. "Did you find anything  
meaningful?"  
"I don‟t know. I haven‟t viewed them yet. I‟m going to  
take it back to the apartment and see if there is anything  
incriminating on them."  
"Let‟s hope that there is," Dmitry said, looking back at  
Cory. "Why are you wearing those tight-ass pants?"  
"Part of the cover," Cory said, going back over to the  
bed. He pulled a pillowcase off of one of Anatoly‟s pillows  
and wiped the gun down then placed it back under the bed  
where he had found it.  
"All gay men don‟t dress two sizes too small, you  
know."  
"This one does. Where is Royal?"  
"Sick."  
"Pregnant?"  
"No. She has flu." Dmitry sat down in the chair by the  
desk and sighed. "I‟m exhausted. Have you thought of  
possible exit strategies for Ivan?"  
"Yeah." Cory put his hands in his pockets. "I‟ve also  
thought about some possible exit strategies for you, too."  
"We‟ll get to that soon enough." Dmitry waved off the  
portion of the conversation that he cared nothing about.  
"Okay. Well, if I can prove on these tapes that he is up  
to illegal activity; I can roll this entire investigation over to  
him. Almost everything that they have on you won‟t stand  
in court now. So, if I give them this bone, they‟ll bite."  
Dmitry listened attentively with his hands crossed behind  
his head. Rocking the seat, he weighed his options.  
"Get the ammunition, but don‟t do anything yet. He‟s  
my brother and a Vor. We must deal with him on our  
own."  
Dmitry's Closet  
217  
Cory nodded. "Okay. Well, I have to give them something.  
This is an investigation."  
"Give them the fact that you‟ve seen the surveillance  
room, but it was only a glimpse when the door was open.  
Give them information regarding the ten whorehouses after  
I get the deeds out of my name, and I‟ll work on deciding  
the rest in the next couple of weeks."  
"Yeah, about that. I‟m taking a week to go home and  
be with my wife and kids. Christmas is coming up, and I  
don‟t want to miss it with them."  
"Of course." Dmitry understood. "I plan to take Royal  
away for Christmas anyway. Renée can watch the place.  
How is your mother‟s cancer doing?"  
"Thanks to you, she‟s in remission. We could have  
never afforded the treatments otherwise."  
"Then our little arrangement is worth it, dah?"  
"Oh yeah. It‟s worth it," Cory sighed. "Let‟s just hope  
that it continues to run smoothly."  
"It will," Dmitry said, turning towards the monitors.  
"Head back up. We have customers coming in. I‟ll stay  
down here and look around a while." He peered at the busy  
noon traffic at Mother Russia and his staff eagerly working.  
"I‟m going to watch them work for a while to ensure that  
they are actually living up to my standard of customer  
service."  
"Alright," Cory said, leaving Dmitry to his surveillance.  
To Cory, Dmitry was a very odd man but in a lot of  
ways very merciful. Cory had blown his cover the night  
that Royal had her opening celebration. He had no idea  
that the building had a basement, because it was not on any  
of the plans that he and the team had gone over.  
That night, seeing that only Royal‟s car was there and  
Dmitry was still at the restaurant, and knowing that Royal  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
218  
always closed her door upstairs and never came down until  
morning, Cory snuck in after hours to comb the boutique‟s  
back office for clues.  
Anatoly quickly emerged from the basement, gun in  
hand and held him at gun point until Dmitry arrived. Cory  
was expecting Dmitry to kill him, but they took him downstairs  
to the basement and talked to him – asked him what it  
would take to flip. Cory had just found out his mother was  
in the third stage of cancer, and as an only child, he could  
not afford he bills.  
Dmitry agreed to pay the doctor bills in full through a  
doctor that he knew who would classify the project as a  
charitable case. And just like that both of his problems went  
away. He would live another day and so would his mother.  
Now that his beloved mother was in remission, Cory felt  
that he owed Dmitry everything, including the useful Intel  
that he gave and the protection that he offered through that  
intelligence.

After Dmitry left Mother Russia later that afternoon, he  
headed back to his house to check on Royal. He was quite  
surprised to see that she had listened and stayed at home.  
He had expected to pull into the garage and find her truck  
gone, but it was still there, which indicated that she was still  
sick. Carrying a small red bag, he walked up the long spiral  
staircase of the main hall to the west wing of his home,  
where he found Royal in bed watching television.  
"Hey," she said, turning off the television with her remote.  
"Hi." Dmitry closed the door behind him and walked  
up to her side of the bed. "Has your fever gone, yet?" He  
placed his hand on her head.  
Dmitry's Closet  
219  
"Yep," she said, moving his hand. "Did you stop to  
check on my shop today, since you wouldn‟t let me leave  
the house?"  
"Everything is fine." He sat on the bed beside her. "I  
have surprise for you." Handing her the small red bag, he  
leaned in to kiss her lips.  
"What it is?" Royal asked, taking the bag.  
A large smiled came across her face as she pulled a small  
Christmas tree ornament out of the bag.  
"Oh, it‟s so sweet. A figurine of the Red Square." She  
held it up to the light to look at the intricately detailed work.  
"Does this mean that you‟re going to let me put up the  
Christmas tree now. You know, I‟ve been dying to do it?"  
She grabbed a napkin and blew her nose.  
"Even better that that." He smiled. "I‟m going to take  
you to Moscow for Christmas and New Years."  
Royal looked up at him stunned. "Excuse me?"  
"Well, you‟ve always said that you wanted to go." Dmitry  
was confused. Did she not want to?  
Royal was quiet for a moment. She moved the comforter  
from her legs and stood up. "Does this mean that I‟ll  
actually see it all? The Red Square? Kremlin? Lenin's  
Mausoleum and St Basil's Cathedral?" She finally smiled  
brightly and jumped on top of Dmitry. He caught her in his  
embrace and kissed her.  
"I was hoping that you would be happy."  
"I‟m thrilled. I‟ve never been anywhere outside of the  
South. Now, I get to see a new country…I just can‟t  
imagine."  
"You know why I like doing things for you?" he asked,  
moving the hair out of her face.  
"Why?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
220  
"Because you are the only woman in my life who truly  
appreciates and deserves it."  
"No, that‟s not why you do it," she said, in a matter of  
fact tone.  
"Really? Then why?"  
"Because you love me," she said, kissing his lips and  
hugging him tight. "And I love you too."  
He looked her in her eyes and shook his head. "Dah,  
that‟s why I do it for you. I love you."  
"Does this mean that you‟re going to make love to me?"  
she asked with her legs wrapped around his back.  
"No," Dmitry laughed. "You‟re still sick." He tried to  
pull her off of him. "I don‟t want you to get any sicker."  
"I‟m not that sick." She kissed his checks and coughed.  
"Ugh! You are, too." He laughed.  
"Baby, I can‟t believe that we‟re going to Moscow!" She  
screamed as she wrestled him down to the bed.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 17  
Royal had never been out of the country. She had never  
been above the ocean, the clouds, so near to the heavens.  
And above all, she had never been in a luxury private jet.  
There was a certain amount of prestige that came with such  
a thing. It was far richer that she could ever describe.  
Earlier that morning after a hardy breakfast and a hectic  
packing session with the maid and Renée to help, she had  
been escorted in a limo from her house to the private  
airstrip, where she and her entourage of Russian men,  
Dmitry and Anatoly included, boarded a swank, LearJet 60  
and set out on a trip to a land that she had never seen.  
Dmitry and Royal sat in the interior forward leather offwhite  
chairs beside each other looking out of windows and  
listening to television that played in front of them on the  
flat screen.  
Dmitry was thinking of the tasks that lay ahead upon his  
landing, and Royal was literally in awe of the beauty of the  
clouds and the blue sky. The stewardess bent down to  
Royal and offered her a glass of champagne. She took it  
happily, inwardly thinking that champagne was a great way  
to celebrate her new lifestyle. However, when offered, her  
companion quickly waved the woman away.  
Royal looked over at Dmitry, who was completely apathetic  
of the entire trip. He had traveled the world over and  
found it the same, wherever he went. It baffled her how a  
man of such wealth and affluence found her so interesting.  
"What are you sighing about?" he asked, taking his eyes  
of the window. He looked over at her and tilted his head.  
"It doesn‟t move you anymore, does it?" she asked, setting  
down her glass.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
222  
"What?" He looked around.  
"Any of this." She kept her voice low, so that the others  
could not hear them. If they overheard her, it would  
only prove more how unworthy she truly was.  
"It is my life, Royal. You‟ll get used to it." He leaned  
over the arm rest to her. "Does it bother you? The way  
that I live?"  
"Hell no," she retorted, and then smiled a little, revealing  
her perfect white teeth. "It fascinates me. I wake up  
everyday and pinch myself."  
Dmitry liked that. His eyes sparkled. "Then it is all  
worth it."  
"Tell me…how you find me…"  
"Yes?"  
"Interesting? When you live like this? I just can‟t understand  
what I bring to the table that blows your skirt up."  
"Sincerity. Genuine sincerity. It‟s a hard thing to come  
by when you have money. Plus, you‟re stunning and smart  
and hard working and….if you just wanted a compliment,  
my dear, you should have just said so. This is quite a long  
way around the bush." They both laughed.  
Royal reached out and touched Dmitry‟s golden bronze  
face. "You‟re such a good man."  
"I am just a man."  
"No. You are so much more than that to me," she said,  
leaning in to kiss him. Her eyes were bright with conviction.  
"Do you know that I‟ve never had one meaningful  
relationship with a man in my entire life? No dad, no  
brother, no decent boyfriend. But you are, in a way, all of  
those things."  
Dmitry didn‟t smile. He looked her dead in her eyes  
and listened carefully.  
Dmitry's Closet  
223  
Royal allowed him to kiss her forehead. It was all that  
he could do to express his gratification for her honesty.  
"Was that too heavy?" she asked, sitting back. "You  
know how I am. I just…get caught up in the moment  
sometimes."  
Dmitry sighed. "No. We are just very much alike, you  
and I. For us to have come from such different backgrounds  
and cultures, we share the same perils."  
Royal agreed with Dmitry, but she could count on her  
hands how many similarities that they shared versus the  
countless things that she could not relate to him about,  
mostly surrounding money. No one ever prepared her for  
this in her many fairy tale stories as a girl. The knight in  
shining armor showed up, just as the story promised, but  
there were no details of what happened during the ever after.  
She was completely and utterly clueless. With a shake of  
her head, she looked back over at Dmitry, who was studying  
her.  
"I like it better when you think out loud," he said, taking  
her glass and sipping her champagne.  
She watched the crystal touch his delicate pink lips. "I  
just hope that you‟re the real thing, Dmitry. Because I‟m  
definitely in over my head. And you don‟t make it any  
better spoiling me like this." She moved her hair from her  
face and rested her elbow on the arm rest.  
Dmitry looked over at her and raised his eyebrow. "Oh,  
I am the real thing." He put the crystal flute back on her  
table and smiled.

To Royal‟s surprise and delight, they stopped in New  
York City before their long trip across the ocean. She had  
never been to New York but had always dreamt about the  
opportunity. Now she was in a limo being rushed around  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
224  
the busy city in style. She sat quietly in the limo looking out  
the window, gawking at the sights while Dmitry talked to  
Anatoly in Russian.  
Dmitry mentioned that the reason for his stop was  
two-fold. He needed to stop for a quick business meeting  
and to buy Royal a proper mink coat for the Russian cold.  
Both errands would be short, because they were blocks  
from each other in the busy burrow of Manhattan. Instead  
of sending Royal with Anatoly, Dmitry had taken Royal  
personally to an upscale shop on Madison Avenue.  
The bodyguards stood outside while Royal and Dmitry  
went inside of the luxury fur gallery, Royal Chie. The  
innovative Japanese designer Chie Imai‟s collection was  
breathtaking. It was internationally recognized for its ecofriendly  
designs, versatility and high-profile clients.  
However, up until now, Royal had only read about the  
shop. Now, she was in it being shown their finest coats and  
accessories. She felt like a kid in a candy store. She was  
allowed to look through the entire new line of furs before  
making her selection, a chocolate Swakala Coat with  
Russian Sable Trimming, and matching muffler and earmuffs.  
The sales woman was about to wrap her new gifts,  
when Dmitry instructed her to dress Royal quickly in the  
furs immediately so that they could leave for his meeting.  
With a bow and smile, she was escorted to the fitting area  
and came back out looking richer than she had ever felt in  
her life.  
As she came out, he was sitting on a chair texting. She  
walked in front of him and cleared her voice. He looked up  
at her pleased. Having already paid for the merchandise  
while she was putting them on, he was ready to go and on  
schedule. Under his arm, she followed him back out of the  
Dmitry's Closet  
225  
shop and into the limo where they ended up at the Wall  
Street Bath and Spa a short while later.  
Instead of going inside the bath house with Dmitry, he  
insisted that Royal stay in the car. She did so obediently.  
She preferred it, in fact. It gave her the perfect opportunity  
to call and tell Renée about her newest gift and her trip thus  
far.  
She wasn‟t left alone, however. She was accompanied  
by a driver and a blonde, brick of a man, who Royal concluded  
was one of Dmitry‟s men. She had never seen him  
before, but he was a cookie cutter copy of all of Dmitry‟s  
bodyguards – huge, arctic polar bears.  
He sat across from her, trying not to look directly at her,  
but she caught him staring several times. Sliding her shades  
over her eyes, she tried to ignore the brut while she talked  
on her cell phone.  
Thirty-minutes later, Dmitry returned with Anatoly and  
his men to the car, and they were back on the jet eating  
lunch before noon.

Before dawn of the next day, Royal and her party arrived  
in Moscow, Russia. Dmitry had been right when he  
said that she would need a big coat. It was the most bonechilling  
winds and rain that she had ever experienced in her  
life.  
Two very large black G550 Mercedes –Benz trucks were  
awaiting them outside of customs. Once they received their  
clearance into the country, they were immediately carted off  
to the Le Royal Méridien National Hotel.  
To Royal‟s amazement, the hotel was directly across  
from the Kremlin. She stood gazing out the elaborately  
decorated windows of their presidential suite at the palace in  
her view. The gold sphere-like tips of the cathedrals caught  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
226  
embers of light that reflected from sun trying to break free  
from the cloudy day and shined into her room. It was a  
spectacular sight. She could not take her eyes off the  
fortress.  
The architecture was amazing, and the massive size of  
the great bricked wall surrounding it was astonishing. It was  
so remarkable until it held her attention beyond her own  
control. By far, it was the grandest thing that she had ever  
encountered, but there was something else very special  
about the wondrous place – perhaps just the thought that  
Dmitry was born and raised in the country.  
While she basked in the beauty of her view, room attendants  
quickly put away their things, changed out a few  
amenities per Royal‟s request and ran a bath for Dmitry.  
With all the commotion in the room, she never broke her  
gaze. Dmitry found her new interest intriguing. He spoke  
to men in Russian, flipped through his blackberry and gave  
out orders, but mostly he admired how entranced she had  
become. She was like a child with a shiny new toy.  
Dmitry noticed how Royal seemed to be maturing dayby-  
day, not that she had been a child when he met her. It  
was just that he had exposed her to so much so very  
quickly, until she was forced to elevate herself at a hyper  
speed. When he first met her, saw her, he knew that she  
was a diamond in the rough, but even he did not know how  
beautiful and brightly she would shine once she was  
groomed.  
Royal did not notice that everyone had left the room  
until she felt Dmitry‟s hands on her shoulders. She turned  
around and looked at him.  
"It‟s…mind-blowing," she said, shaking her head. "I‟ve  
never seen anything like it." She touched the frosted  
window. "That‟s the Kremlin? It‟s huge…massive."  
Dmitry's Closet  
227  
Dmitry massaged her shoulders. "I‟ll make sure to take  
you to the Kremlin later this week."  
"Tomorrow," Royal demanded. "I‟ve got a whole day  
lined up for myself. I brought gym shoes, jeans, a camera  
with a butt load of memory and a pea coat." She smiled at  
him. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"  
"You‟re such a little tourist. Tomorrow, I actually had  
other plans, but I‟ll cancel them, and you and I will spend it  
touring the entire Red Square and your precious Kremlin.  
Well, the part that we can get inside. You know the President  
of Russia lives there."  
"Like the White House? Wow. I can‟t wait until tomorrow  
then." She reached out and gave him a big hug.  
"This entire place is like one big dream, Dmitry. I still can‟t  
believe that I‟m actually here." She released him and turned  
back towards the window.  
Dmitry huffed. "When I was your age, I thought this  
place was nightmare. I couldn‟t leave here soon enough.  
And look at you…you want permanent visa." He wrapped  
his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.  
"That was when you were young. Surely, you miss it  
now."  
"No. I just come here to take care of things I can‟t take  
care of anywhere else."  
"But it‟s a part of you?"  
"A very big part of me," he confirmed.  
"Well, I feel like it‟s a part of me, as much as you talk  
about it."  
That made Dmitry smile. "You feel that strongly about  
it, eh?"  
"Yes," Royal couldn‟t control her smile. "It‟s so different  
from Memphis."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
228  
Dmitry laughed so hard, his voice rattled the room. Her  
only point of reference was Memphis, yet to look at her,  
Royal looked like she had traveled the world for years.  
He turned Royal around and pulled her to him.  
"I will open your little eyes to this big beautiful world  
soon enough. And you will see that everything is quite  
different from Memphis. Maybe even, you appreciate it  
more. Who knows?"  
"I appreciate it…when I‟m away from it," she said,  
hanging her arms around his neck. "I don‟t want to live  
there forever."  
"I‟m certain that you will not." Dmitry rubbed his hands  
through her hair.  
"Oh, change of subject. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.  
So, I‟ve got to go and get your other gifts while we‟re out."  
"Other gifts?"  
"I brought some things with me." She wiggled her nose.  
She knew how much he enjoyed her gifts.  
"What it is? I want to see it now." He gripped her  
waist in his hands.  
"No. You have to wait till Christmas."  
"I haven‟t had Christmas gifts since I was little boy."  
"Well, it‟s a good thing that I‟m around, because I‟ve  
got a great Christmas planned. We‟re going to have eggnog  
and Christmas stockings and the whole nine."  
"You and your holidays." His thick accent covered his  
words. "I have to step out for a few hours and take care of  
some business. So, you‟ll have the suite to yourself." He  
pulled away from her and went into the master bedroom to  
take off his clothes.  
"Completely to myself or will that big blonde dude be  
outside of my door?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
229  
"What? You don‟t like blondes. Fine. I get you redhead."  
He laughed.  
"Whatever." She pulled her coat off and pulled her hair  
out of its pony tail. Scratching her head, she went over and  
sat on the bed in front of him. "Do you think that he‟ll take  
me to get something to eat? I‟m starving."  
"Order in."  
"I don‟t want to. I want to stretch my legs. I‟ve been in  
a jet for hours."  
Dmitry pulled his tie loose and looked at her. "Alright."  
He began to unbutton his shirt. "He‟ll take you anywhere  
you want to go."  
Royal stood up on her knees in front of him and started  
to unbutton his tailor made oxford for him. He ran his  
hands down her back to her bottom.  
They made eye contact.  
She raised her eyebrow.  
"Are you thinking of cancelling your plans for this afternoon."  
Her hair sat flirtatiously around her shoulders.  
"If I could, I would."  
Unbuttoning Dmitry‟s shirt, she pulled the fine clothing  
from his body revealing his massive chest. She reached for  
his belt and pulled him closer. The smell of his cologne  
danced about her nose. She inhaled his fragrance and bit  
her lip.  
"Can you…cancel?" she asked suggestively.  
Dmitry gave a devilish grin and licked his lips. His  
voice was low and baritone. "If I could, you‟d already be  
screaming and crawling the walls, my dear." He tapped her  
behind softly, indicating his commitment to his previous  
engagement.  
Sulking, Royal let go of his belt and watched him walk  
into the large bathroom. He smiled playfully at her and  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
230  
closed the gold double doors behind him. Defeated, she  
slumped down in the bed. It was highly unlike Dmitry to  
turn her down. He must have had something very important  
to do. And what did she have to do?  
It was snowing like crazy, the skies were blackened with  
dark clouds, and she didn‟t speak much Russian. Maybe the  
brick wall standing outside of the hotel door wouldn‟t mind  
escorting her to the restaurant for something to eat? She sat  
back up on the bed and slipped on her shoes.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 18  
Morning rays crept through the curtains of the presidential  
suite, as Royal and Dmitry lay wrapped in each other‟s  
arms snuggled comfortably in their king-sized canopy bed.  
Dmitry snored lightly, and Royal listened to the grandfather  
clock in the corner tick the seconds away. She had been  
awake for nearly an hour, tossing moderately under the  
strain of Dmitry‟s long arm wrapped protectively around  
her waist.  
Twirling her fingers in her tangled hair, she thought  
about where she would have her blonde bodyguard Davyd  
take her today. She had seen many the sites in the last few  
days, even though Dmitry had cancelled on her repeatedly.  
He apologized everyday promising also to spend time with  
her the next, but everyday he left her in Davyd‟s care. To  
her surprise, however, Davyd had been quite the tour guide.  
Plus, he seemed to enjoy doing something other than taking  
orders from her anally-retentive boyfriend.  
Today, she planned on shopping. Dmitry had given her  
the American Express Black Card and told her to "knock  
herself out". She was going to do just that. Evropeiski Mall  
was supposedly the superior shopping experience, and their  
stores would give her insight on what new things she could  
bring to Dmitry's Closet. Then she would go over to Tverskaya  
Street, which was filled with hundreds of shops and  
boutiques, where she would do more shopping, and then  
dine at the finest restaurant that she could find. She might  
even buy her bodyguard something nice.  
Strangely enough shopping had become a well-proven  
stress reliever for her. She relished in the idea of seeking  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
232  
out bold statements made with expensive fabrics. Accessorizing  
with precious gems, bold bags and beautiful shoes  
made her giddy with excitement and temporarily satisfied  
some insatiable lust for more that dwelled inside of her. It  
was bizarre to her that such materialistic things brought her  
comfort, but they did, especially when she was not receiving  
ample attention from Dmitry.  
Rolling over on her, Dmitry nuzzled his face down in  
her hair and pulled her closer to him, grunting as he did so.  
Royal looked over and touched his face. He growled,  
acknowledging that she was already awake. Sparkling  
diamonds emerged as the slits of his eyes opened. He gave  
her a content smile. She turned towards him and slipped  
her arms around his neck.  
"Morning," she whispered.  
"Good morning." His deep baritone voice cut through  
the silence.  
"I‟m glad that you slept later than normal."  
"What time is it?" He raised up a little.  
She pulled him back down. "It‟s early. Don‟t go yet. I  
miss you."  
"Umm…I miss you too." He kissed her lips.  
"Do you have plans today?"  
"I have a few meetings."  
There was silence.  
"When are you going to start our vacation?"  
"Soon. Isn‟t Davyd showing you a good time?"  
"Yes, but I want you to show me a good time."  
"Name a morning that I haven‟t."  
Royal laughed. "I mean outside of the bedroom."  
"Oh…I‟ll be finished with all of the madness very  
soon."  
"What have you been doing over here?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
233  
Dmitry eyed her curiously. "I‟ve been consolidating  
some of my businesses."  
"How many do you have?"  
"Here?"  
"Period."  
"Many, love."  
"Maybe I could help you with some of your businesses  
if you‟re having troubles, since I did an okay job with the  
boutique?" Her eyes were eager with anticipation.  
Dmitry smiled and rubbed his hand down the side of  
her neck.  
"Business is good, but thanks for the offer. I may take  
you up on that one day soon."  
"Well, I just wanted you to know that the offer is always  
there, especially since I‟m about to spend up all your money  
today with your little black card."  
Dmitry smirked. "Spend as much as you like. It won‟t  
break any of my banks." He looked at his watch and sighed.  
"I better get up."  
"Okay. I‟m starving. Will you have breakfast with  
me before you leave?"  
"Dah," he said, standing up naked beside the bed and  
stretching. "Come take shower with me first."  
Pulling herself out of the bed, Royal followed Dmitry  
into the bathroom and closed the doors behind them.  
She felt his arms wrap around her as she did. He pulled  
her close to his body.  
"Are you ready for that good time that we were talking  
about earlier?" he asked, picking her up off the ground.  
She giggled. Of course, she was.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 19  
Dmitry prepared to leave the building with his full entourage  
for his meeting. They were all in expensive black  
suits and dress coats, all standing tall and wide, intimidating  
the onlookers as they passed by quietly.  
People whispered as they glided through the building.  
Mafia. Vory. Medlov. Men moved over to let them pass,  
and women looked on curiously.  
Their footsteps could be heard in cadence down the  
long marble grand hallway, full of force and retribution for  
anyone who dared block their paths.  
While the others relished the attention and the urgency  
that came with their presence, Dmitry walked confidently,  
never really paying attention to all of the attention that was  
on him. He considered the men‟s eagerness and their  
aggressive attitudes to be an attribute of youth, therefore  
brushing it off.  
Instead, he focused on the important meeting that  
would convene in less than an hour. It was imperative that  
everything go as well as it had the day before in New York.  
The heavy snow storm had picked up and violent winds  
ripped through the front doors of the hotel as Dmitry  
passed through them. The force of the winds waved  
through his heavy wool black coat, through the curls of his  
hair, straight through his suit to his bones.  
Dmitry took in a deep breath, expanding his lungs in the  
cold, feeling the burn through his chest. He welcomed the  
cold and the violent weather. It was just a friendly reminder  
that he was home.  
His eyes sparkled like blue diamonds in the snow, the  
blondness of his hair and the rose embellished hue of his  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
236  
fair skin blended well in his native terrain. However, there  
was nothing more natural to him that the tech nine automatic  
machine gun in its holster under his coat, the knife in  
his pants leg or the Glock in his briefcase.  
Many heads of Vory chose to travel light and let their  
men carry the real hardware, but Dmitry believed that  
leadership started with good examples. He insisted that  
every man with him come strapped or not come at all.  
Dmitry and Anatoly were loaded in together in the middle  
of the caravan of Mercedes trucks. Then they all were  
carted off to a private summit with heads of the Vory v  
Zakone, unsure of what the events might have in store.  
Dmitry had not shared with anyone outside of his son,  
the purpose of the meeting but insisted that it was most  
urgent.  
Anatoly sat across from Dmitry, shaved, showered and  
suited. The change in his wardrobe had been deliberate and  
demanded by his father. Dmitry had come to him a few  
weeks ago with a card for a tailor and instructed him to go  
there. No one will ever take you seriously if you don't, Dmitry said  
to him in a low, baritone chastising tone.  
That day, Anatoly had gotten rid of most of his favorite  
clothes and started to wear tailored suits, made especially  
for his body, for his job. Playtime was nearing its end for  
Anatoly, and even he knew it.  
"If all goes well, this will be the last time that you and I  
will travel together," Dmitry said with a small, proud grin.  
"To ensure that all is not lost in an ambush, we won‟t be  
allowed."  
"You mean there will be no more chauffeuring you  
around?" Anatoly asked sarcastically.  
"I know that you will miss it," Dmitry said jokingly.  
"But I will need a new driver."  
Dmitry's Closet  
237  
"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Anatoly asked,  
concerned.  
"You act as though I‟m leaving something that has  
brought me great joy." Dmitry chuckled a little under his  
breath then looked over at his son. "I couldn‟t be surer of  
anything. Trust me."  
"It was your life for so long, though. How can you walk  
away? If she loves you, she can do so with you as the man  
you are. To reinvent yourself seems hopeless. It doesn‟t  
seem right to give up your life to enhance hers."  
Dmitry was quiet for a moment. "My life is back in that  
hotel now. I‟m growing tired of this, Anatoly. Yet, I‟ve  
worked too hard to just give it over to someone who  
doesn‟t deserve it. You are my son. This is your rightful  
place. You are the rightful heir. It has worked out a lot  
better than I ever expected it to. Before you came into my  
life, I was sure that it would end…badly."  
Anatoly nodded. "I only hope that I can make you  
proud."  
"You‟ve already done that," Dmitry confirmed.  
"You know, for years, I was a snotty-nosed teenager  
terrorizing these same streets, dreaming about becoming  
Vory v Zakone, dreaming about meeting you and plotting  
on ways to make more crumbs." Anatoly looked at his  
father and smiled. "Now, I may very well be a boss at  
twenty-one years old. That sounds unbelievable."  
"One of the youngest…ever."  
"It‟s a big responsibility."  
"Well, I have prepared you well. There is no better tutelage  
than my own. You remind me of myself, except for  
your height. You are barely 72 inches. That is extremely  
short for a Medlov, but your heart is like lion. You are a  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
238  
fighter and a leader. No one can deny this. You won‟t let  
them."  
"And a killer," Anatoly added. Even he was not without  
some guilt.  
Dmitry looked out the window and sighed. "That is  
one of the staples of this brotherhood, son. To kill or to be  
killed. Very few of us are blessed to die of old age."  
Dmitry cleared his throat. "It‟s…how we are born. To  
worthless women, to lives of crime, famine, darkness. We  
are bred to be what we are now. You should never feel bad  
about that. It is the nature of the beast. Besides, no one  
can ever say that I gave you a silver spoon. You came in  
and worked as a lowly solider. You had to gain your  
respect, and you did. Now, these papers in my briefcase  
confirming your biological DNA link to my own, your loyal  
work to the Vory v Zakone, the blessing from the New  
York family and my final stamp of approval will end all  
doubt that your rightful place is at the head of your father‟s  
table."  
Anatoly tried hard not to get emotional. Instead he  
nodded at his father and sat up straighter. He wished that  
some of the young men, who had made fun of him as a  
little boy when he told them who his father was but did not  
believe him, could see him now being escorted through  
downtown Moscow with Dmitry Medlov, the most feared  
of the Vory v Zakone in all of Russia.  
Anatoly wished more than anything that he could see all  
their faces when he had stars across his chest. His mother  
would have died of pride. His younger brother would have  
wanted nothing more to do with him. His boys…they  
would have been so jealous – extremely envious of him.  
But he knew that all of his hopes were in vain. Nothing  
would ever be the same if he received approval today. He  
Dmitry's Closet  
239  
looked over at his father, relaxed and confident, even going  
before the wolves. How he wanted to be him one day.

There were supposed to be no meetings while Dmitry  
was away in Russia, and most of the council chose to adhere  
to his wishes. However, a small group led by Ivan gathered  
under the cover of night in the back of a small restaurant on  
the outskirts of Memphis to talk about the future of the  
Medlov Family without Dmitry as its leader.  
Although all the men feared Dmitry, and rightfully so  
because of his iron hand, some longed to grow their legacy  
through other means that had been deemed unstable for the  
Memphis operations by the collective council many years  
before.  
Ivan had picked up on this tension in many of the meetings  
and had provided the men an audience as soon as word  
reached them that Dmitry would be away for a few weeks.  
He was great at reading people, especially corrupt people.  
He had used his intuition on many occasions to capitalize  
on his own ambitions. This situation was no different.  
Now, he would use these disloyal bastards to get to his  
brother.  
The rain beat on the building as they drank heavily under  
receded lights and soft music. Each of the three men,  
including Ivan, were a still a little leery of what they were  
attempting to do, even though Dmitry was thousands of  
miles away.  
Each understood the grave consequences of his actions  
and insisted that at least four of their best men stand post  
surrounding the building. However, they all knew that  
should Dmitry come for them, those men would not be  
enough protection.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
240  
"Let‟s get started," Ivan began as his man closed the  
door of the private room. "I‟ve spoken with several other  
men not associated with the Vory v Zakone around Memphis  
who would be interested in doing business with us.  
And they have agreed under one condition." He looked  
around the room at the eyes glued to his mouth and his  
every word. "The condition being that we eliminate Dmitry  
and any men who are in agreement with him. That would  
mean the entire council."  
There was an automatic sigh of defeat. The condition  
was more than a notion for any of them. While it appeared  
that Dmitry traveled light, the truth of the matter was that  
he had over 200 men within the region were in allegiance to  
him. His organizational skills should have been the seventh  
wonder of the world. In a dangerous business of organized  
crime where men continuously stabbed each other in the  
back, Dmitry was no Caesar and no one had ever been  
strong or bold enough to be his Brutus.  
"Dmitry‟s men are larger in number than our own by  
thirteen heads if you have forgotten," Nicolai, one of  
Dmitry‟s most trusted men said, taking a sip of his strong  
drink. "What we are proposing is the deliberate overturning  
of our own leader. To do that would send the wrong  
message to others who have long been interested in taking  
over our business. Plus, let us not for get the code.  
Thieves- in-Law. What we are proposing will cause us to  
face retaliation by New York and Moscow."  
"Not if we do it the right way," Ivan protested. "New  
York has never been one hundred percent sold on Dmitry‟s  
tactics even if Moscow has. However, they have never  
gotten in the way, because he has always delivered. What  
we need to prove is that his new love interest is proving to  
be his Achilles‟ heel. He is one of the first in the states to  
Dmitry's Closet  
241  
amend the code and allow marriage, family and legitimate  
business, and look what it had done to him…to us. There  
was a reason that the codes were in place. Who is he to  
change it? That is reason enough in itself for him to be  
killed."  
"I didn‟t know that you cared so much about the code,"  
Nicolai said unconvinced. "Didn‟t you have a wife?"  
There was a silence in the room. Ivan looked over at  
the man with a scowl on his dark face. Then he smiled.  
The deepness of his dimples and the curve of his beautiful  
face were over powered by the sheer hatred and malice that  
he carried in his soul.  
"Had a wife? Yes, I did. Funny thing happened with us  
though. Dmitry killed her." Silence over took the room  
long enough for the clicking of dishes to be heard out in the  
main area of the restaurant. No one wanted to talk about  
Ivan‟s dead wife. Many had heard the rumors, but no one  
dared utter a word.  
"So this is about revenge?" Nicolai pressed the issue.  
"Because if it is, you need to get in line. Many people want  
to kill Dmitry because of someone that they‟ve lost. It  
doesn‟t mean that they will be avenged, especially by his  
own captains."  
"No. This is about money. And the only way that we  
make more of it is to cost him and New York a great deal of  
theirs."  
"Are you proposing that we become sloppy in our own  
business?" Max asked, another of the closest of Dmitry‟s  
council.  
He had long wished for more money to pay for his mistresses  
and wife. The multitude of his harem was growing  
and his cash flowed was dwindling due to the aching  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
242  
recession. Plus, his jealousy towards Dmitry had only  
deepened through the years.  
Max had asserted to his wife and closest friends on  
many occasions that it was Dmitry‟s looks that got him as  
far as he had gone. Had Dmitry been fat like Max, who had  
been treated for diabetes, obesity and heart disease for over  
ten years now, then the story would have been quite  
different for him.  
"I am simply saying it‟s going to take a sacrifice in our  
own daily business to get rid of him."  
The men were not sold. In fact, they were more resistant  
that ever.  
"He‟ll only tighten the reigns. Our incompetence all of  
a sudden will send red flags. He‟ll cut us down where we  
stand." Nicolai was ready to pull away from the table. He  
had hoped that Ivan had a better plan than this. "Please do  
not tell me that you have brought us down here for some  
paper thin conspiracy plan that will only land our heads on  
the chopping block, our families, and our men. You have  
to have more than a few adolescent whores in mind and  
suggestions that we become careless in our finances. Tell  
me something more or I walk. Besides, if Dmitry would kill  
his brother‟s wife, God only knows what he would do to  
us." He looked at the other men, reminding them of how  
close to death they were at that very moment.  
"We also give him over, limb by limb, to the police,"  
Ivan continued adamantly.  
He was unmoved by their fear, unmoved by the mention  
of his dead wife. His only goal was to get them in  
agreement. Once the plan was laid out and complete, he  
would kill them too. He smiled as he thought of it. A  
whole new breed of Vory v Zakone would be put in  
place…all following him. "There is an ongoing investigaDmitry's  
Closet  
243  
tion on all of us right now. You. You‟re family. Your  
men." He mocked them.  
"We‟re listening," Max said, concerned. He reached  
for his friend Nicolai to settle down. Dmitry had always  
protected them from any real police threat. This was a new  
development, a reason possibly to validate their new alliance  
with Ivan.  
"I don‟t have a lot of information right now, but I know  
that Dmitry was approached by two police officers at the  
Peabody only weeks ago. They know something and they  
must be close to producing evidence."  
"How can we be sure that they are not his?"  
"They are not." Ivan snapped. He would not give  
away his sources. "All of us are being watched. Maybe  
even now. I‟m sure that New York would want to end the  
investigation here and not allow it to end up at their front  
door. This is how we will couch our ambush to them when  
they become concerned about their white knight."  
"So how do you suggest we give him over? His lawyers  
will find a way to have him out by night fall should the  
police, federal or local, pick him up. Plus, he has moles."  
"I‟ve set up shop in quite a few places since I‟ve been  
here. But I made one house very special. It‟s full of under  
aged girls, prostituted out for the most depraved sex  
possible." He licked his lips and grinned like a chess cat.  
Many of the girls at the house had been used for his own  
pleasure on tortured nights when he would visit. "It‟s a  
cash cow, and the house is in Dmitry‟s name. No one  
knows about it. The girls are drugged day and night. The  
oldest of them is only seventeen. All we need to do is  
somehow turn this information over to the cops. He‟ll be  
faced with hard time. That will give us time to shut down  
his other operations and set up our own."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
244  
"So what are you waiting for?" Max asked. "If this is all  
that we need to do."  
"I am waiting for the right time. When he returns, we‟ll  
set it up. I‟ll need your help for that."  
"If that doesn‟t work?" Nicolai asked. "After all, it is  
his house. We cannot be sure that he doesn‟t already know  
that it‟s there. You underestimate your brother and you  
definitely underestimate the reach of the Vor…"  
"If all else fails, we kill him." Ivan said, rolling his eyes.  
"No elaborate plan. We just fucking kill him."  
"Just kill him?" Nicolai laughed. "How many have  
tried that? Numerous men. They are all dead. And I am  
not talking about good deaths. Their body parts are all over  
this city."  
"I am his brother. His blood. If there is a man who  
knows how to get to him, I do. Plus, he and I have an  
unsettled score." Ivan took a shot of vodka and wiped his  
mouth with his sleeve. "Don‟t shit your pants, ladies. I  
don‟t need your help for this. I do it myself, but when I do  
it, I take his place, his house, his life. I have given you three  
plans that can go on simultaneously. One of them will  
work."  
"Okay. What for us if you succeed…same percentage?  
Still there is no reason yet for us to consider joining with  
you." Nicolai didn‟t want to change one dictator for  
another. It was fruitless.  
"More. A lot more. There will be less of us to deal  
with. If I kill him, you kill the remaining council. That  
shouldn‟t be too hard to do, considering that they hold on  
to his every word. They won‟t know what to do without  
him. We will usher in a new era for the Medlov family –  
one where we make all the money." He looked around.  
His hooded dark eyes gazed over them. "Agreed?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
245  
"Agreed," the men said, looking at each other.  
"Good," Ivan chucked. He raised his drink and toasted  
the men, mocking them inwardly. They were backstabbing,  
disloyal servants who had no right to be called Vory v  
Zakone. He would make them pay but not before Dmitry.  
It was all that he could think of anymore.  
He had waited for his big brother to rise just to make  
his fall harder. The fury showed on his stone face. He  
looked off in the distance, thinking of his own wife and her  
bloody, limp body.  
Dmitry deserved death, but it would not just be enough  
for him to suffer. His brother‟s sins would be revisited  
upon Royal also. Ivan ached to have her. The revenge  
would not be complete until he had ravaged her sweet little  
body in such a way that it would kill Dmitry dead without  
the use of a weapon.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 20  
Two weeks had passed quickly. This was the last night  
that Royal would spend in Moscow. Her trip had been the  
most surreal experience of her existence. Dmitry had finally  
done as he promised and taken her on a grand private tour  
of the Red Square, the Kremlin, the Cathedrals, downtown  
Moscow, great five-star restaurants for fine cuisine, shopping  
sprees at the best boutiques, a walk in the snow-filled  
park, and he had topped the vacation off by sending her to  
a real fashion show.  
Gostiny Dvor‟s atrium was packed the night before  
New Year‟s Eve. The 18thcentury architectural gem was  
filled with fashion aficionados speaking many different  
languages all at the same time. They huddled together in  
their packs, smiling, laughing and networking. People wore  
high fashion by designers that she knew well and some that  
she had never heard of before.  
Waiters and waitresses bounced around the room with  
food and champagne; a live ban played a hip, Russia techno  
tune. And Royal had a natural high from simply being  
there. She tried desperately not to look like a deer in  
headlights. She only spoke English. Many of the people in  
the room spoke many languages and had a lot more to talk  
about than Memphis.  
The notion was overwhelming to her that somehow  
even in all of her glamorized clothing, she was poorest  
woman of culture in the room. However, at that moment,  
she did not care. She was just excited to be there.  
Her black cocktail bag rattled on her arm. It was her  
cell phone. Reaching into her purse, she was grateful to see  
that it was Dmitry taking time to give her a call.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
248  
"Hello." She moved to the corner to hear him better.  
"How is you evening coming along?" he asked, raising  
his voice to speak above the crowd in her background. He  
sat across from Anatoly and a few of his men having a quiet  
dinner in the hotel.  
Royal scanned the room. "It‟s too much."  
"Too much?"  
"It‟s amazing." She grabbed a glass off the tray as a  
waitress passed by. "There are so many people here."  
"Are you afraid? Where is Nadia?"  
"No, I‟m not afraid. She‟s around here somewhere.  
I‟m fine. Really." She paused. "I‟m excited!" She put her  
digital camera back in its satchel, allowing it to rest from  
overuse. "I‟ve never in my life been to anything like this.  
I‟m still high on a super adrenaline rush."  
"Good." He sat back in his seat and relieved the tension  
growing in his body at the mere thought of her being  
uncomfortable. "Are you going to buy something?"  
"Yes. A few somethings actually. We won‟t be able to fit  
all the stuff that I‟ve purchased on the plane. I‟ll have to  
mail it back home." She took a sip of her champagne.  
"This is not a big deal. Just enjoy yourself. Let someone  
else deal with the logistics."  
"Okay. What are you doing?"  
"Having dinner with my son."  
"Good. Tell him I said hello."  
He smiled. "I will."  
"Okay. I‟ll be back as soon as it‟s over. Can we spend  
some time together?" she pleaded.  
While the trip had been called a vacation, Dmitry had  
worked the entire time, going into meeting after meeting  
with Anatoly.  
Dmitry's Closet  
249  
"I was just about to ask you the same thing. I know  
that I‟ve been really preoccupied. My apologies."  
"It‟s fine, baby. I‟ve had a ball."  
"You‟re a very understanding woman, Royal."  
She blushed. "I try." She saw her escort, Nadia, making  
her way across the crowded floor to her. "Well, look.  
I‟ve gotta go, but thanks for calling."  
"See you soon," Dmitry said smiling. He closed the cell  
phone in his hand and looked over at Anatoly. "She said to  
tell you hello."  
Anatoly smirked. "She talks too much."

While Dmitry did not attend the show, he did introduce  
her to the wife of a good friend of his who happily escorted  
Royal to the VIP event. She could barely understand the  
Russian woman Nadia, but she was very nice. She spoke  
with a heavy accent, always nodding her head and smiling as  
she talked. She wore a wedding ring that resembled the  
hope diamond and donned the finest furs and leather that  
she had ever seen.  
Nadia looked like she could have gotten up from her  
seat and walked down the catwalk with the other models.  
No one would have known. She was extremely beautiful  
and tanned. Royal found that odd. She was tanned in this  
type of frost-biting weather.  
They had seats by the catwalk, where they watched all  
the skinny, beautiful women prance around in front of  
them, showcasing the finest in Russian designs by the crafty  
heiress and teenager Kira Plastinina.  
Royal had purchased a few of Plastinina‟s collections to  
put in her store a few months ago. She liked Kira‟s whimsical  
dresses and bright colors, but she was now sitting at  
her show, preparing to order off the runway.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
250  
After the show, as they were being escorted out of the  
building by their bodyguards into the cold brisk night, Royal  
caught a glimpse of an attractive man in a gray wool sailor‟s  
coat and a pair of jeans coming towards her.  
As he neared closer, Royal realized that it was Dmitry,  
towering over the others in the crowd like the gentle giant  
that he was. He smiled when he knew that she had recognized  
him. He was without bodyguards or an entourage.  
She moved away from the car in her long black gown  
towards him. Nadia‟s bodyguard quickly reached for her,  
stopping her from attempting to wander through the crowd.  
She looked up at the man and pointed over at Dmitry. He  
quickly released her, apologizing in his native tongue.  
"Did you enjoy it?" Dmitry asked, nodding at the bodyguard  
as Royal walked up to him.  
"Yes." Royal looked back over at the man one last time,  
before she took Dmitry‟s hand.  
"Take Nadia home," Dmitry ordered him. "And Nadia,  
thank you so much for escorting Royal."  
"It was pleasure," she said with a toothy smile. "Poka!"  
Winking at Royal, she got into the back of the limo.  
Royal looked over at the car as it pulled off. "I guess  
we‟re walking."  
"This will be fine. You have insulation," Dmitry pulled  
at her coat. He leaned into her, talking under his breath and  
looking into her eyes. "I just wanted us to begin our private  
time as soon as possible. Tomorrow, we leave for Memphis,  
and we‟ll be stuck on a small plane with ten people for  
many long hours." His minty breath tickled her nose.  
"I know," Royal huffed. "Moscow was starting to grow  
on me too. Oh well." She hunched her shoulders and  
smiled. Her eyes sparkled nearly as bright as the diamonds  
on her ears.  
Dmitry's Closet  
251  
Dmitry motioned away from the crowds of people outside  
loading into fine cars. "Shall we?" he asked, graciously  
offering his arm.  
Royal wrapped her arm around his large bicep and  
stayed close as he whisked them through the crowd. They  
walked towards the lights of their hotel. Their footsteps  
could be heard on the bricked pavement as they moved  
further and further from the crowds into the silence of their  
own company.  
Royal walked close to him, under his embrace. She was  
a little afraid to be out so late alone, having been used to the  
bodyguards now. But Dmitry walked carefree, unworried  
with being alone. His solace calmed her.  
"Where are we going?" Royal asked.  
"Up to the room, so we can get rest for tomorrow.  
Maybe we can have nightcap."  
"Are you being a dirty old man," she asked, raising her  
eyebrow at him, recalling the night before.  
"What? I didn‟t do anything." He smiled at her. "This  
time, I really do want drink. But I just felt like walking for  
change." He took a deep breath. "Slow down finally. It‟s  
been long time since I could do that, you know."  
"I see you have on your Christmas gift," Royal said, observing  
the nice new leather carrying case for his blackberry.  
"Dah. This was a very thoughtful gift. Spasiba. I love  
you almost as much as I love my phone." He smiled at her.  
"Well, I knew that you needed a new one. You‟re old  
one was starting to look bad."  
"You know, you always seem to get me the things that I  
can really use and that I appreciate it."  
"Yeah?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
252  
"Yeah," Dmitry repeated. "I am thinking that one day,  
you might get me a son or even daughter." He looked at  
her.  
"You have your order mixed up. The cart is not supposed  
to go before the horse." She rolled her eyes.  
"You seem sensitive about it tonight."  
"I have my reasons." There was silence as they walked.  
Dmitry stopped and turned to her. "This expression  
horse and cart refers to marriage right?"  
"Right."  
"You‟re very sensitive about that too."  
"Most women are."  
"No one is as sensitive about it as you."  
Royal could feel the heat of her skin. How dare he?  
She tried to stay calm but it was not easy. She took deep  
breaths and focused on the beauty around her. No reason  
to ruin the night.  
Dmitry observed her anger. He knew her well by now.  
"Why are you so sure that you‟re missing out on something?"  
"You wouldn‟t understand." Tears pricked at her eyes.  
She held them back.  
"Understand? What is there to understand? Tell me."  
"Every time I turn around, you‟re giving me diamonds,  
and at first, I didn‟t understand your generosity. But now I  
think I‟ve finally gotten you figured out. You shower me  
with all these diamonds for my neck and my ears and my  
wrist, because you want to take my mind away from the one  
I really want on my finger."  
She turned and started to walk again.  
"I‟m not avoiding it. I think of it probably more than  
you do."  
Dmitry's Closet  
253  
"Why would you? You have the milk, no need to buy  
the cow now?"  
"What? What is this about a cow? Horses now cows.  
I‟m confused."  
"I‟m not playing, Dmitry. It depresses me. It…pisses  
me off. It makes me feel less than a woman."  
Dmitry took her arm and looked into her eyes. "I  
would never want to make you feel less than a woman.  
That is not my intention at all, Royal Stone."  
"But it is your intention to keep me a kept woman?"  
"By whose standards are you kept. I don‟t believe in  
the world‟s social norms. I live by another set. One that  
has ruled me since I was a boy."  
"And does this society of yours have wives?"  
"No."  
"That‟s what I thought. As much as I love you, don‟t  
you ever ask yourself if all of this will end? If I can‟t be  
your wife, then I can‟t be in your life forever."  
And there it was, Royal‟s ultimatum.  
Dmitry shook his head. It had taken her longer than he  
had first expected.  
"Yes. You can. You belong to me. Tell me that you  
can't feel it? We have a covenant...you and I. Whether  
there is a ring on your finger or not, I will always be your  
husband. You gave me your virginity...I gave you my entire  
life."  
"And I‟m grateful. I mean, if it were my place, I‟d have  
already asked you to marry me." She sighed. "But it‟s not  
my place, because I‟m not the man in this relationship."  
"Thank God."  
Dmitry smiled. Clever little girl. She was determined to  
get what she wanted. She looked up at him and rolled her  
eyes.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
254  
He reverted back to his previous discussion knowing  
that it would only irritate her more. "So cow, children with  
you is not out of question?" he asked, holding in a chuckle.  
"At this point, I‟m damned certain that they are in the  
picture." Royal had learned not to expect Dmitry‟s constant  
questions to go anywhere. Sometimes, he just wanted to  
know. "I just want to be married first. And if you call me a  
cow again, I‟ll climb up your lanky body and kick you in the  
balls."  
He did chuckle that time and put his hand over his  
groin.  
"Whoa, horsey. I hope that we have a whole house full  
of babies with their kept momma. And they can have your  
last name. I like it more."  
Royal was incensed. She snatched her arm away. "You  
pompous asshole!" Shaking her head, she stormed off.  
"How I could even wait on baited breath for you to ask is  
beyond me. I‟m an idiot! Just as much of an idiot as you  
are. We deserve each other. We‟re both ridiculous!"  
Dmitry stopped walking and watched her pout her way  
down the street.  
"Royal. Royal come back," he called after her.  
"No!"  
"How about now?" he asked, smiling.  
"How about now what?"  
Royal stopped walking and whipped around. Her heart  
stopped. Dmitry was on one knee under a street light. His  
grin was even more devious that ever. He had a look of  
utter accomplishment on his face.  
As she walked closer to him, he took off his gray wool  
skull cap, revealing his blonde curly locks. He looked up at  
her, still nearly as tall on one knee as she was standing. His  
eyes sparkled.  
Dmitry's Closet  
255  
"Hi," he said softly. His dimples created creases in his  
jaw line.  
"Hi," Royal whispered with her hands over her mouth  
in disbelief. "You really got my goat this time. Didn‟t you."  
"Goats, horses, cows. This is why I love you."  
"I love you too."  
Dmitry cleared his throat. "Some people do this after  
dinner in crowded restaurants. I prefer privacy. We are  
here in the city that I was born, the city that created what I  
am, whether it‟s good or bad." He looked around and  
sighed. "So much has happened in the last few weeks,  
things that have come to fruition that have completed my  
legacy. It is time for me to move on with my life. I have  
worked hard enough, and I want to start this new life with  
you – the woman that I love, and a woman that is pure but  
is not all ignorant of the world. No man can ask for more."  
Tears ran down Royal‟s cheeks. No longer cold or  
afraid, she clung to her coat shaking not from coldness but  
from shock. She stood in front of him on the sidewalk in  
the snow looking down at her knight in shining armor.  
"Will you be my wife?" Dmitry asked, pulling a small  
box from his coat and opening it to show a very large  
solitaire diamond ring. Its simplistic beauty and grandiose  
size caught her attention instantly, but it was Dmitry‟s  
question that captured her. When she did not answer,  
Dmitry continued. He felt his strength weaning. He wasn‟t  
expecting her to say no. He began to stutter. "I… I know  
that you don‟t know what I do, what I‟ve done, who I am.  
If you give me time, I will show you the man that I can  
be..."  
"Yes," Royal said, sticking her left hand out. "Yes, I  
will marry you."  
"Are you sure, because you took minute," he joked.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
256  
"Yes," Royal screamed and a laughed. "Yes." She  
smiled bright as he slid the ring on her finger and picked her  
up. The luminous d-grade diamond sparkled in the moonlight  
on her long slender finger.  
"Come here," he said, holding her close. They hugged  
tightly. "You have made me very happy. Now I will have  
beautiful wife who has promised to give me lots of children  
and no more lip."  
"I love you," she said with her hands around his neck.  
"You do?"  
"Yes," she looked into his eyes. "I‟ll always love you."  
"I love you too," he said kissing her lips. He scooped  
her up in his arms and laughed and smiled at her. His deep  
voice lit up the night. "We‟re getting married!"  
"Yeah!" Royal screamed. She looked at her ring again.  
"I‟ve gotta get a dress," she said, shaking her head.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 22  
There was severe winter storm circling Memphis. In  
celebration of the weather, Ivan sat on his rooftop in a lawn  
chair as the wind and snow beat down on the riverside.  
With only a black wool sweater and a pair of jeans on, he sat  
with a silver flask of vodka in the silence of his thoughts,  
gazing at the blackness of the Mississippi under the heavy  
winter night skies. Instead of sitting towards the middle of  
the building, he positioned his flimsy chair on the very edge  
of the rooftop with his feet propping him safely up on the  
flat surface. If he dared slip, he would fall to his death, but  
Ivan did not care. He liked the edge and all that it  
represented.  
He looked down at the quick fall of the snow to the  
ground below, where cars lined the front of his condo  
nearly four stories down. His men were inside preparing  
for a war, and he was outside preparing for his brother‟s  
judgment day.  
Guns had been shipped and stolen from many miles  
away in anticipation of what was to come. Many would still  
not do business with them until Dmitry was dead, but they  
sent complimentary weapons in hopes that Ivan would be  
able to do the job. Most doubted he could. Few believed  
that he would get out of this alive. He took in a deep  
breath and smiled. The thought of drawing first blood  
made his heart skip a beat. The gleeful feeling of crushing  
Dmitry under his boot was a far better rush than any drug  
could provide. It wouldn‟t be long. A week at most. Now  
that he had his plan in action, he just had to make special  
plans for Royal.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
258  
A mocha-colored black man walked out on the rooftop  
and interrupted Ivan‟s silence. He was bald, tall and clean  
cut with very dark, prominent features. His large frame was  
covered by gray turtleneck and dark jeans. With him, he  
carried two large guns in the holsters under his arms. He  
coughed a little, hitting his chest as he did so.  
"Люди готовы для вас," the man said in a deep baritone,  
offering Ivan his coat. His deep voice rattled the quiet  
snow.  
"Препятствуйте им ждать, брат," Ivan scoffed. He  
offered his brother-in-arms a drink, but as usual the holy  
man would not touch it.  
Dorian was an old friend who had flown in from Moscow  
specifically for Ivan‟s coo. Before he left, he had  
confirmed for Ivan that Dmitry was back in their homeland,  
then he had quickly come to Memphis to set up shop.  
Dorian was an expatriate of neighboring Sochi, Georgia  
with a healthy appetite for building dirty bombs. His father  
had been from Africa and his mother a quiet Muslim  
woman and native of Sochi. Dorian had been a rebel during  
many of the conflicts in Georgia and had since his teenage  
years, very much like the Medlov boys, been involved in  
organized crime.  
Ironically enough, Ivan met Dorian through Dmitry,  
but not in an amicable way. Over a decade before, Dmitry  
sent Ivan to kill Dorian, but when Ivan arrived in the city of  
Tbilisi, Dorian paid him well to allow him to keep his life.  
The secret was maintained for a couple of years. And Ivan  
thought it was all water under the bridge when they left  
permanently to work for the Vory in the states. However,  
their scandal was still uncovered.  
Dmitry later found out that Dorian was not dead and  
discovered the $3.5 million American dollars that Ivan was  
Dmitry's Closet  
259  
paid only after Dmitry came in contact with the man in  
New York by chance. Small world.  
In retaliation of Ivan‟s willful defiance, there was a  
bloody fall out between the brothers that landed Ivan in the  
hospital with his neck cut open and his wife dead. Dorian  
was smart enough to sneak out of the city and hide away in  
Thailand until it all blew over. Now, he was back to ensure  
that Ivan‟s final stand against his brother had a fighting  
chance.  
"You still prefer to speak Russian brother?" Ivan asked,  
leaning into the edge a little with his feet.  
"I prefer no one language over another," Dorian answered,  
looking at Ivan play with death under the slick snow.  
"I‟ve been forced to speak the language of the natives  
for so long until I sometimes forget who I am and where I  
come from. Dmitry wanted to come to the states, but not  
me," he said with a sigh. "I would like very much to go back  
to Russia when all of this is over."  
"For good?"  
"I don‟t know about all of that, but for a while, dah."  
He pushed the seat back and stood up. "It‟s long way  
down, eh," he said, looking over the edge of the building  
one last time.  
"Yes. So you should not tempt God by pretending that  
it‟s not," Dorian said, walking towards the door. "As I said  
before, the men are waiting on you."  
"And as I said before, let them wait," Ivan said, taking  
another swig of his vodka.

The limo pulled in front of Dmitry‟s home at exactly  
6:00 p.m. Royal had fallen asleep on Dmitry‟s arm with her  
feet stretched across his lap. They were finally alone after  
many long hours of low chatter on the plane ride. When  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
260  
the driver opened the door, Dmitry rubbed Royal‟s arm and  
woke her up. She grabbed her purse and followed Dmitry  
to the porch, where the bodyguard sat with his dog.  
Nightfall had set in and the large compound was quiet and  
still.  
"Hey poochie," Royal said, gesturing at the dog, who  
came over quickly and kissed her hand.  
"He‟s supposed to be a guard dog?" Dmitry asked,  
shaking his head. "Are you sure that he even bites?"  
"Yes, boss. He bites," the man said with a faint grin.  
"Good," Dmitry opened the door for Royal.  
While Moscow had been beautiful and different, Royal  
could not explain the joy of walking back into their home.  
The familiar smell of vanilla and jasmine filled the airy  
atrium. She looked around in awe and hugged herself  
quietly. Kicking off her shoes, she headed up the staircase.  
"Where are you going," Dmitry asked, looking through  
the mail on the table.  
"To take a bath," she screamed down as she ran up the  
stairs.  
"You‟re like fish," he said under his breath. "Always in  
water."  
The driver walked behind Dmitry and placed their luggage  
by the door, tipped his hat and left quietly.  
Frustrated with the bulk mail he had been receiving lately,  
he shuffled through the pile and found a blue envelope  
with no return address. He picked it up and flipped it  
around, then slid his long finger between the paper to break  
the fold. There was a small white note inside the suspicious  
envelope that simply read in blue pen, "Call me as soon as  
you read this."  
Dmitry took a deep breath and looked up the stairwell.  
Royal had retreated to her bathroom, where she would  
Dmitry's Closet  
261  
surely be for hours. He tore up the small piece of paper  
and stuffed it deep into his pocket, then made his way to his  
study, where he closed the door and went to his desk.  
The fire crackled in the darkness, illuminating the large  
room.  
He sat down and sighed, then dialed the number slowly.  
The phone rang twice then picked up immediately.  
"Hello." The southern male voice sounded eager.  
"How long has your note been sitting on my table?"  
"One day," the voice confirmed.  
"What is the problem?"  
"Your brother is planning to wage a war on you. Two  
of your council members are in cahoots with him."  
"Which ones?"  
"Max and Nicolai."  
"Impossible."  
"Wanna hear the tapes? They met at Ginger‟s Pub out  
in Arlington maybe a day after you were gone."  
There was silence on the phone.  
"Leave Max and Nicolai to me," Dmitry said finally.  
"And your brother?"  
Dmitry leaned his large arms over on the table and  
crossed his hands. "Use the information that I‟ve given  
you, but trust me…you won‟t need it until after."  
"About that," the voice sighed.  
"Yes?"  
"He‟s trying to connect you with over ten whore houses  
here, one of which is selling off teenagers. We don‟t have  
proof right now. Can‟t ever catch anyone in the act, but he  
said that he‟d come in and give testimony against you and  
proof this week."  
"Teenagers?"  
"Yep."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
262  
"My brother has something else up his sleeve. He  
would never cooperate truly with the police anymore than I  
would."  
"Well, he‟s your brother. So, I hope you know him well  
enough to know what he‟s up to. You could just put this all  
on him and have him sent up to prison for a while."  
"No. We settle this among the Vory not among you."  
"Anyway you want it, chief. We just got word that  
you‟ve arrived back in Memphis. Cops will be there soon  
with a no-knock. You better get your house in order."  
"Fine. I‟ll call my lawyer." Dmitry rolled his eyes in  
aggravation.  
"Everything‟s circumstantial right now. You won‟t even  
be held for even 24 hours. We don‟t have shit really. The  
houses are yours on paper, but there is no direct connect  
between you and the girls."  
"How could there be? I‟m not the one whoring them  
out; Ivan is. Have they been taken from the house?"  
"The few that we could find. They‟d been moved and  
not one of them is talking."  
"I‟ll find out where."  
"You don‟t have time. ETA is less than ten minutes."  
"Ten?"  
"Yeah, so you best be on your way. Make your calls  
quick."  
Dmitry hung up the phone and reached into his pocket  
for the waded up paper with the number on it. Quickly, he  
threw it into the fire.  
He had to make several calls before the police arrived.  
One to Anatoly to gather the council. One to Cory to  
watch over Royal. One to the head of his henchmen team.  
One to his lawyer. He wasn‟t sure that he had enough to  
time. He picked up the phone and sighed. He had to try.  
Chapter 23  
When the police arrived to Dmitry‟s estate in their heavily  
equipped SUVs and unmarked squad cars with their blue  
lights flashing, the gate was open for them so that they  
wouldn‟t break it down. Regardless of the chaos that he  
caused, he despised unrest around him.  
The police quickly rushed in and pulled around the long  
drive, parking in front of the large mansion in an over  
exaggerated convoy.  
In anticipation, Dmitry had conveniently opened the  
front door of his home, turned on all of his exterior lights  
and was having a cigar out on the front porch with his men  
when they pulled up.  
To the officers‟ chagrin, the element of surprise had  
been ruined. Almost as if Dmitry had been tipped off. All  
of his guards had discarded their guns and stood outside in  
the front smoking cigarettes, eagerly waiting to be hauled  
downtown for a quick visit, according to their boss. They  
complied obediently, having been trained long ago how to  
deal with the shields.  
Dmitry had switched cell phones and dumped his computer  
files. Everyone had been notified including his  
attorney.  
He was ready for them.  
As they came up the porch steps with guns drawn, he  
raised his hands and looked confused.  
"What is this?" he asked as they turned him around  
against the front door and put the cuffs on him. His rights  
were read to him. Politely, he did not interrupt. There was  
no resistance. All the planning and gun power was for  
nothing.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
264  
A man of very muscular build and bo-legs in all-black  
tactical gear and his face covered in a black mask walked up  
to Dmitry and noted his cocky smirk.  
"Happy New Year," the man said sarcastically.  
"Just get this over with," Dmitry said, looking down and  
eyeing the man. "You all don‟t have anything on me. I‟ll be  
home before morning."  
"Did you get the girl?" The masked man turned and  
asked another officer not far from him.  
"I didn‟t know she was on the list."  
The man smiled. "Oh, she‟s on the list."  
Dmitry was suddenly enraged. There was no need to  
arrest Royal. She didn‟t know anything. She was supposed  
to come down from her bath and find them all gone. He  
would then return later and inform her of the awful mix up.  
But that was the masked man‟s intention. He knew that  
Royal was unaware, but he wanted her to know. He wanted  
to talk to her, to get in her head, to turn her from her  
sanctimonious lover one truth at a time.  
The resistance started immediately. Dmitry jerked and  
pulled one officer down trying to get into the house to warn  
Royal, but the masked-man clashed against Dmitry‟s giant  
frame. Their bodies collided and made a loud thunder.  
Other officers quickly piled on top of him. He still pummeled  
through like a linebacker on a scrimmage line. The  
last tackle took him down at the threshold of his doorway.  
He hit the ground hard. The thud rocked the marble  
floor. With men on top of him and blood in his mouth,  
they struggled to get him up off the floor. He spit blood  
and shook off his dizziness. He was still fighting. The large  
group of men dragged him out to one of the squad cars,  
pushed him in and hit the roof of the car, signaling to drive  
him off.  
Dmitry's Closet  
265

Relaxed and in a tranquil daze, Royal soaked in the water  
with her hair up in a bun and the candles lit around her  
with the music blasting on her IPod.  
Her eyes were closed but every once in while, she would  
lift her hand out of the warm water and look at her engagement  
ring sparkling in the darkness.  
She had never loved diamonds as much as she loved  
them now. Maybe it was because she had a whole chest of  
them given as gifts from Dmitry on nearly every occasion.  
Diamond rings, diamond earrings, diamond watches,  
diamond necklaces, diamond hair pins. Diamonds. Diamonds.  
Diamonds.  
She hummed a soothing tune under her breath. Life is  
great, she thought to herself.  
At first Royal thought that it was all too good to be true,  
but it had turned out to be her big break. She had the  
dream job, the dream fiancé and the dream home. She  
opened her eyes and grinned at the thought. She had it all.  
She was just about to close her eyes again when she noticed  
a light shining from under the door. Why did Dmitry  
have a flashlight? She sat up in the tub as the door knob  
turned slowly.  
"Dmitry?" she called out, looking across the bathroom  
for her towel. Her heart skipped a beat. She could feel the  
constriction in her chest. Something was not right.  
The door flung open and four men barged in the bathroom  
with their guns pointed in full black tactical gear with  
their lights on their guns blinding her in a standard two-bytwo  
cover formation. She screamed when she saw them,  
trying to both cover her body and prepare to be shot.  
Launching a bar of soap, she hit one man in the head.  
Her shrieking cry and vulnerable state made another man  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
266  
almost lower his gun. Almost. He quickly refocused the  
infrared beam on her wet bosom. She was like a deer in  
headlights. Tears ran down her face as she screamed for  
Dmitry, but he never came.  
"Someone call the cops!" she screamed, only covered by  
the bubbles in the water. Her lips quivered.  
"FBI, maim," one man said, walking towards the bench  
where her towel had been placed. He grabbed it and threw  
it over to her.  
Royal was confused. The FBI?  
"Well what the hell are you doing in my bathroom?"  
Royal asked, catching the towel. She was too afraid to stand  
up and wrap herself, but she was certain that the men would  
not turn around and give her a chance to cover up. "Dmitry!"  
she screamed again.  
"No need for the screaming, maim. We have a no  
knock warrant. We need you to get dressed and come with  
us immediately," the man ordered. His face was completely  
covered by a black mask only revealing his brown eyes.  
Royal looked over at him, breathing hard and shaking.  
She wiped the water and tears from her face.  
"Why? I haven‟t done anything?"  
"Get dressed now, maim." The man signaled for the  
men to leave the room. He walked slowly out. His footsteps  
squeaked against the puddles of water now on the  
floor. He stopped at the door and turned around.  
"Do you have something in this bathroom you can put  
on?"  
Royal shook her head quickly. "No, the maid has already  
cleaned everything up," she sobbed.  
"Where are your clothes? I can‟t allow you to start digging  
around in these drawers. There could be weapons."  
Dmitry's Closet  
267  
"Weapons? Who do you people think that we are?"  
She shook her head.  
He did not answer.  
"I set my nightclothes out," she said, pointing into the  
room. "There on the bed. My jeans and my sweater for  
tomorrow are on the chaise lounge chair." Her voice  
quivered.  
The man walked into the bedroom, grabbed her clothes  
and her black silk panties and bra and brought them back  
inside to her.  
She reached up and took the clothes, grateful for his  
compassion. Unable to control his virile instincts, he  
looked down at her wet naked body in the bathwater. So  
you‟re what all the fuss is about, he thought to himself.  
"Look, you‟ve got two minutes to get dressed," he said  
in a low voice. "We‟ll be right outside. Don‟t take my  
kindness for a weakness, Royal."  
"I…I won‟t." She was shocked that he knew her name.  
With a nod, he turned on the lights and left her alone  
in the bathroom.  
After getting dressed, Royal was escorted in hand-cuffs  
by the police officers from her room, down the long  
staircase and out of her home. Angry and ashamed, she  
wiped the constant tears from her face and tried to hold her  
head up.  
"Where is Dmitry?" she asked before they put into a  
black unmarked squad car with tented windows much like  
the one they had carted Dmitry off in earlier.  
"He‟s already been taken downtown to the federal detention  
center," the masked man answered.  
"Why?"  
"Well, we can talk about that once we get you there.  
For now, let‟s just get you out of the freezing cold."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
268

Like something from a movie, the walls were gray; no  
windows were in the room and single halogen light hung  
from the ceiling. Dmitry found it typical and theatric.  
A tall, Italian man with a bald spot in the top of his  
head and five o‟clock shadow walked into Dmitry‟s room  
finally after looking at him through the mirror for a while,  
looking through is his file and comparing notes to the  
pictures of the young girls. He closed the door softly, sat  
down and took a sip of his coffee.  
"Remember me from the restaurant?" he asked Dmitry.  
Dmitry looked up from the table and smiled. "Sorrello?  
The sloppy Italiano from the Peabody."  
"You remembered?"  
"I never forget," he sighing."Why am I here?"  
"We have reason to believe that you have been trafficking  
underage illegal aliens into the United States for the  
purpose of soliciting sex for your profit. Here, we call that  
pimping. We have you connected to several drug dealers in  
the city, very recently preparing to go into agreement for the  
shipment of Meth to the Memphis area for distribution.  
Let‟s not forget the new chop shops in Binghampton you  
just purchased, and if that ain‟t enough, if it ain‟t illegal, it  
sure is a shame to have such a pretty girl next door locked  
in shackles because of your tricky ass," Sorrello said, taking  
a deep breath.  
"You don‟t have shit," Dmitry said, checking his Rolex.  
"Chop shops, whored-out kids and meth. What do I look  
like to you…an Italian? Now, where is my lawyer?"  
"You don‟t want to play ball, huh?"  
Dmitry sat up in his seat. "I am an upstanding, tax paying  
American citizen. I have not done any of the things that  
Dmitry's Closet  
269  
you have just suggested. You have the wrong man, cowboy."  
"So how do you explain how we got your name?"  
"Do not answer that," a short, gray-haired man said,  
busting through the door in his tuxedo and overcoat. He  
was Olich Slovinky, Dmitry‟s lawyer.  
Dmitry rolled his eyes. "I was just asking about you,"  
he said, scooting back from the table. "You‟re late."

Agosto watched Royal through the glass very carefully.  
Something about her said that she was a victim. Although,  
he would not go with his gut yet, he was certain after his  
interrogation, she would confirm his suspicions.  
Sorrello was surely next door botching his investigation  
with his hard-hitting Hollywood tactics. Agosto found him  
irritating at most, but this was a joint-task force effort. He  
had to put his personal reservations aside for the betterment  
of the investigation.  
The real work would start in this room, maybe not  
through her mouth, but most definitely her eyes. Agosto  
knew women. He had been married for three years to a  
maniac of wife whom he could not help but impregnate for  
the hell of it. He would handle Royal Stone with kid gloves  
and get enough to put to Dmitry Medlov to jail where he  
belonged.  
Royal sat in the lonely, cold room with her head buried  
in her arms on the table sobbing softly. When she heard  
the door open, she sat up in hopes that Dmitry had come to  
collect her, but it was just a cop.  
With a nod, he closed the door and walked over to the  
seat across from her. He cleared his throat.  
"Want some coffee?" he asked, offering her a cup.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
270  
"Thanks," Royal took the cup. She wiped the tears  
from her eyes.  
"Are you alright?" Agosto asked.  
"No. I was…" Royal began to cry again. "I was in the  
bath tub when they came. Do you know how embarrassing  
that is?"  
"It couldn‟t be helped. However, I gave you a towel,"  
Agosto said apologetically. "It‟s more than I would give to  
most."  
Royal looked at him and put the cup down. "What‟s  
your name, officer?" she asked with fire in her eyes.  
"Nicola."  
"Nicola, would you ever want your girlfriend to be interrupted  
like I was?"  
"No. My wife would freak out." He shook his head.  
Mrs. Agosto was a firecracker. "She‟d kill the messenger."  
"Exactly." She pulled her hair from her face and looked  
away from him.  
"But I would never put her in the situation that your  
Dmitry has put you in."  
Royal was silent.  
Agosto opened the files and began to place pictures of  
young women in front of her. She looked down at the  
pictures of the teenage girls in short dresses, lingerie and  
some with bruises and scrapes. He did not talk until the last  
picture was on the table, lined against the others to form a  
collage.  
"Royal, how much do you know about Dmitry?"  
Royal looked up from the pictures at Agosto.  
"Why?" Tears started to form again.  
"Do you ever wonder about where he gets all of his  
money?"  
"His stocks. His businesses."  
Dmitry's Closet  
271  
"His whores?" Agosto added.  
"Dmitry is not a pimp," she said, pushing the pictures  
away. Now, he was just being preposterous.  
"No, not just a pimp. That is actually a new niche for  
him in Memphis. Although, I think he runs a group out of  
Eastern Europe that is heavy into the prostitution. You  
may want to ask him." Agosto pulled another file out.  
"Dmitry would never."  
"Maybe. He has been tied to money laundering, extortion,  
drugs trafficking, illegal gambling facilities, nuclear  
weapons trafficking, precious gems trafficking and a host of  
other serious crimes globally. We just can‟t prove it.  
Everyone who has ever thought about testifying has been  
murdered. Plus, the way that the Vory v Zakone sets up  
some of its organized crime syndicate models, you never  
really can connect the top guys with the soldiers and the  
ground work."  
"Are you insane? Listen to you. Listen to what you are  
saying." Royal shook her head.  
"I know it‟s hard to believe. He seems like a nice guy.  
Treats you nice. But who would blame him. Look at you."  
"You‟re lying."  
"No, I‟m not. There are only a few other people as major  
as your man in the Eurasian crime community, and he‟s  
worked with and for all of them. He is the true meaning of  
connected."  
"If that‟s true, then why would he be out on the streets,  
just walking around like a normal person? Why in the hell  
would he be running a restaurant if he‟s so major?"  
"Many crime families run their illegal businesses out of  
legitimate business store fronts. Many well-known Russian  
crime bosses have run them out of restaurants."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
272  
"Dmitry is just a normal guy. I would know," she argued  
as she beat against her chest. "I live with him each  
and every day. I would know if he wasn‟t normal." Tears  
ran into her mouth.  
"Would you? What‟s so normal about Dmitry? You‟re  
just used to him, used to his lifestyle. In actuality, everything  
about him screams mafia. Love blinds people."  
"I don‟t believe you," her voice was hushed.  
He passed her a napkin.  
"We can‟t prove that he did this, but you wouldn‟t want  
him to confirm this for you." He slid a picture of woman  
with her neck sliced open, lying on a bedroom floor covered  
in her own blood.  
"Do you know her?"  
"No," Royal said, letting the tears drop down on the  
paper. The sight instantly brought back thoughts of her  
sister and the man that she had killed as a child. She wanted  
to throw up.  
"That is the late Mrs. Ari Medlov." Agosto met her  
con-fused eyes. He nodded. "Not Dmitry‟s wife. His  
sister-in-law, Ivan‟s wife. She was found in New York like  
this. No one knows why. Everyone thinks Dmitry did it.  
What a temper, huh? I‟ve heard that he can be a real sonof-  
a-bitch. You might want to be very careful with him."  
"Why are you showing me all of this? Are you saying  
that he‟s a… monster?"  
"Haven‟t you been listening?" Agosto put the pictures  
away. "He‟s the worst kind."  
"I want a lawyer," she said flabbergasted.  
"You have your rights. They were read to you. I know,  
because I did it." Agosto slid a small picture across the  
table to her. "Do you know this guy?"  
Dmitry's Closet  
273  
She picked it up and shook her head. "Yes," she said,  
handing it back to him. "That is Anatoly."  
"Who is he?"  
Royal was about to tell the truth, then she caught herself.  
Agosto could see it before she began to lie. "He‟s the  
butler or something like it. He does everything."  
"Even kill?"  
"I‟ve never seen anyone killed." She snapped.  
"Have you ever heard of the Vory v Zakone then?"  
"No."  
"He‟s a member of a very elite organized crime group  
that has connections globally. Just remember that."  
"I don‟t believe you," Royal said, looking away.  
"So, you want to end up like Ari Medlov?"  
"No." Royal stood up from the table and walked to the  
corner. "He‟s all I have," she said, swallowing hard. "You  
don‟t know what that‟s like."  
"To love someone? Of course, I know what that‟s like,  
but I don‟t think that he loves you. He‟s using you."  
Agosto stood up and walked over to her with his hands  
balled in the pockets of his jeans.  
He was only inches away from her. She turned and  
looked up at him. Her face was red, puffy and swollen. But  
Agosto still thought that she was striking.  
"Maybe you should just walk away before it‟s too late,"  
Agosto quietly urged. "A nice girl like you doesn‟t deserve  
to be put through this. Find some new place to start."  
Royal listened as he spoke barely above a whisper. She  
watched his mouth as it moved. She heard his words, but  
her thoughts were in a different place.  
"It‟s not your fault. You just wanted a job. Just wanted  
a family. Someone to love you. You just picked the wrong  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
274  
guy. He took advantage of you." They made eye contact.  
He was working her.  
His dark curly hair looked like silk against the contrast  
of his olive-toned skin. Agosto was a knockout, a little  
shorter than Dmitry but very well built. His bold Mediterranean  
features eased her spirit. He wasn‟t hard to look at  
or stand by. His cologne wafted up to her nose. He knew  
his charms worked. He moved closer.  
Tears fell down her cheeks.  
"If you‟re trying to get me to turn on him, don‟t. I  
won‟t do it."  
"You don‟t have to turn. Just help us out a little."  
"Help you?" She scoffed. "Help you how?"  
"What‟s the code to the basement of your shop?"  
"I don‟t even know that," Royal snapped  
"Can you get it?" Agosto asked.  
She looked up into his eyes bemused but didn‟t answer.  
Agosto almost felt sorry for her situation. He knew that she  
did not know anything now, but he was certain that if she  
tried, she could dig far enough to get him what he wanted.  
Plus, Agosto found Royal incredibly attractive. Although  
he was a married man, he was still a man. He knew  
what he saw in the tub - a fresh, ripe woman vulnerable and  
beautiful.  
If he didn‟t have control, he would have kissed her right  
then – made her feel what it was like to be truly protected.  
But he did have control, a wife and a strong desire to keep  
his job. Instead, he smiled at her and whispered, "Get me  
the code," as he slipped his business card in the back pocket  
of her jeans. His finger trailed on the denim.  
Just then, Dmitry‟s attorney barged into the room waving  
papers and giving directives. The mood instantly  
changed. Agosto‟s magical hold on her was broken, and she  
Dmitry's Closet  
275  
was suddenly reminded of who waited for her outside of the  
door. Slovinky demanded in a high-pitched voice that  
Agosto move away from his client. In a theatric movement,  
he stood in front of her and wedged his way between the  
frantic woman and the cop.  
Within minutes, Royal was released and followed her  
balding, frail Jewish lawyer as he and his team led her to  
Dmitry, who waited eagerly to have his fiancée back.  
Keeping his distance, Agosto trailed behind them in a  
slow-paced walk as they darted down the hall. He wanted  
to keep his eye on Royal, wanted her to know that he was  
not afraid of them – not afraid to come after her.  
"Are you alright?" Dmitry asked, standing as Royal approached.  
"I‟m fine," she pulled away from Dmitry‟s grasp and  
looked back at Agosto. He smiled as she did, grateful that  
she would even acknowledge him at all.  
The two men made eye contact, but Dmitry was too  
proud to show his true vulnerability, especially in front of  
his future wife. He scowled at Agosto.  
"Handle him, Slovinky," Dmitry ordered putting a fur  
coat over Royal‟s shoulders. "His presence irritates me."  
"This is a fucking detention center. It‟s sort of his  
turf," she bit out, walking off from both he and the  
lawyer.  
Dmitry sighed and followed with his lawyers in tow.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 24  
The ride home from the FBI Detention Center was  
quiet for both Royal and Dmitry. Just like five hours  
before, the driver pulled into the front driveway of their  
home and let them out. Only this time they both were very  
somber.  
Anatoly was waiting for them at the door, sitting on the  
porch clipping his nails while his men patrolled the perimeter.  
Royal walked up the stairs of the porch behind Dmitry  
but did not speak. She simply brushed past Anatoly when  
the door opened and ran upstairs. Dmitry watched her until  
she was out of his sight, and then followed his son into the  
study.  
"Did you call the council?" Dmitry asked, exhausted.  
"Dah. Каждое приходит."  
"Make sure everyone is there, especially Max and Nicolai."  
"Is it true?"  
"Yes it‟s true."  
The men went inside to talk, but Dmitry did not want to  
be long. He had a feeling that Royal was on the verge of  
breaking. She would not tell him what Agosto had said to  
her in the room, or from what his lawyer had said to him,  
why the Agosto was so close to her. Instead, she stared out  
the window and wiped her teary eyes the entire ride.  
"I‟ve taken care of everything that you‟ve asked." Anatoly  
sat in the chair opposite of his father‟s desk and crossed  
his hands. "So, what now?"  
"We wait." Dmitry sat down in his chair.  
"Is Royal alright?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
278  
It was odd to Dmitry that Anatoly would even ask  
about her. He never did. He must have seen it too.  
Dmitry rubbed his temples and tried to control the anger  
boiling in his chest.  
"No. They burst into the bathroom with her naked  
pointing their guns and pulled her out."  
"Naked?"  
"No, but the whole time all I could think about was the  
fact that they were up there with her naked. Did they even  
give her enough privacy to get dressed or did they stare at  
her?" He paused in fury.  
"Relax, father. I‟m sure that they did not." Anatoly  
tried to calm him. "You know what I find amazing?"  
"What?"  
"Your brother is plotting to kill you; you face many  
charges that could have you caged in a jail for life like rat;  
the council is at each other‟s throats; we‟re about to enter  
into a blood bath, and you are concerned about who has  
seen the woman upstairs naked."  
Dmitry looked over at Anatoly and frowned.  
"I don‟t see problem with this," Dmitry said softly. "If  
it were not for the woman upstairs, I would have already  
pulled the knife planted firmly in back out and gutted my  
brother, Max and Nicolai along with anyone else who I  
thought was a threat to me."  
"Well now, I don‟t see a problem with that."  
They both smiled at each other. Dmitry sat back and  
sighed, releasing a little pressure.

After talking to his father, Anatoly left the house quickly,  
and Dmitry headed upstairs to Royal. As he walked  
down the corridor to his bedroom, a strange nervousness  
overtook him, like when he was schoolboy. He frowned at  
Dmitry's Closet  
279  
the thought. Had this woman taken possession over him so  
that he was actually nervous? Such a thing had never  
happened in all of his adult life.  
He walked into the bedroom to find her wildly packing  
her things. She was trying to leave. She was still crying, but  
now she was stuffing her Louis Vuitton bags to the brim  
with clothes. Dmitry instantly noticed that she had taken  
the engagement ring off and placed it on the night stand.  
He walked over and picked up the ring, while she  
stumped around him, cutting her eyes at him every few  
minutes.  
"Why is this off your hand?" he asked, sitting down on  
her side of the bed. He smoothed the sheets under his palm.  
"Because I accepted it under false pretenses," she  
snapped, throwing more clothes on the bed.  
"I don‟t think that you did."  
Royal stopped. Her eyes were wide and wild. "Do you  
know what I found out today? The man that I was going to  
marry is murderer, pimp, mafia…psycho." She started to  
pack again, violently pulling one of the bags to the bedroom  
door.  
Dmitry watched her as she struggled with the bag.  
"I‟m not a pimp." His voice was low and calm. He  
lacked defense.  
"Then explain those poor, starving girls."  
"They are Ivan‟s. He‟s trying to set me up."  
"Oh, well that explains everything," she said sarcastically.  
"And the dead woman with her throat slit? I suppose  
that she was just part of the set up too?"  
He was silent. Agosto had said too much.  
"And the dead woman?" she asked again. That was the  
one thing that she hadn‟t necessarily believed – the only  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
280  
thing. It was far too gruesome to be real. It had been the  
worst of all the allegations.  
She turned around petrified and looked at him. He was  
still sitting with the ring in his hand looking completely  
unmoved by the murder of an innocent woman. Yet, there  
was arrogance about him now that indicated that he had  
done it but that there was a reason behind it.  
"Did you do it?" she asked in a near whisper.  
"The question should be why…why did I do it?"  
She dropped the bag and put her hands over her mouth.  
"He said that I would end up like her. Her name was  
Ari Medlov, you fucking bastard! She was cut from ear to  
ear. How could you cut her throat like that? What kind of  
monster are you really?" Tears ran down her cheeks.  
"If you would just let me explain."  
"What kind of a man kills a woman? You‟re such a hypocrite.  
Always acting like you‟re above it all, when you‟re  
right in the thick of it."  
"That was a long time ago."  
"But you did kill her?"  
"Yes, I killed her. But the why…"  
"Then there is no why! She was a woman, not a man!"  
she exclaimed. "And you killed her. Now, I‟m supposed to  
just forget it? Ignore it? Have you lost your rabid-ass  
mind!"  
Dmitry walked towards her, but she screamed and  
darted out of the room. With no shoes on, she ran down  
the hallway on the marble floors as fast as she could, away  
from the bedroom. She looked back to see Dmitry come  
running out of the room behind her.  
She screamed again as she made her way to the stairwell.  
Her heart pounded as she skipped every other step, trying  
quickly to keep Dmitry from closing the gap with his long  
Dmitry's Closet  
281  
stride. She nearly fell at the bottom of the stairwell. Feeling  
for her keys in her jeans, she headed towards the kitchen. If  
she could get to the garage, she could get off the property,  
even if she had to plow down the fence and the bodyguards.  
"Someone help me!" she screamed.  
She ran through the foyer to the kitchen and could hear  
Dmitry gaining on her. Suddenly, she felt his arms reach  
out for her and pull her down. She hit the floor fast, missing  
a face-on collision with the marble only because instinctively  
her hands slapped the ground first. She turned around  
and started to kick him as hard as she could.  
"Calm down, Royal," Dmitry ordered, trying to get her  
to stop screaming.  
"Get off of me," she screamed. "I hate you!"  
She managed to squirm away from him and jump up.  
She grabbed a knife off the island bar and pointed at him.  
Her long hair was now down and flowing freely. Her shirt  
was torn and her hands shaking.  
"Stay away from me, Dmitry," she screamed, taking a  
jab at him.  
"Royal, what the fuck?" Dmitry‟s eyes were fixed on  
the knife. "Put that thing away." His voice was still calm  
and quiet. His continued sensibility frightened Royal  
even more.  
"I won't let you kill me!" She was frantic.  
"What? I would never harm you." He raised his hands  
so that she could see. "Look, baby. No guns, no knives.  
Just me."  
"I saw what you did to her," she said crying. "Why?"  
"Because the bitch was trying to kill me. She was a ruthless  
killer. She wasn‟t like you," he explained.  
"You‟re a liar!" she backed away from him. "Stay away  
from me, Dmitry." She held the knife sturdy. "I‟m warning  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
282  
you. I‟m getting out of this place right now, and you‟re not  
going to stop me!"  
Dmitry looked at the garage door. "I can‟t let you leave,  
Royal. It‟s not safe."  
"For who? You?"  
"No, for you."  
"Bullshit! I don‟t believe you. I don‟t believe anything  
that you say." She shook her head and looked over at the  
door. How she wanted to just get away.  
Dmitry walked closer to her. "I would never hurt you.  
You have to know that."  
The bodyguards heard the commotion and entered the  
kitchen behind Dmitry. They were astonished to find Royal  
wielding a knife at their boss. They looked on confused.  
Dmitry shook his head at them and waved them off.  
"Leave," he said firmly. "Now!"  
They walked out slowly looking both at Royal and each  
other. Once they had gone, Dmitry walked closer to her.  
She kept the knife pointed at him, backing herself into a  
corner like a scared animal, desperate to defend herself.  
Dmitry stretched his arm out to her and opened his  
hand. In it was Royal‟s ring.  
"I‟m the same man that gave you this ring. Please don‟t  
let them tear us apart," he pleaded. "Baby, listen to me.  
Listen. You‟re all that I have. I can‟t lose you. I can‟t live  
without you."  
"The man that gave me this ring is a monster," she said  
crying. She wiped her eyes. "He‟s a liar! To think that I  
actually trusted you."  
Dmitry shook his head. It killed him to hear her say the  
words. The knife would only quicken his suffering. He  
walked all the way up to her with his dress shirt now torn  
open revealing his rippled, tattooed chest.  
Dmitry's Closet  
283  
"If you believe that I would ever harm you, go ahead.  
Kill me now," he said solemnly.  
Royal cried, still holding the knife as he approached. He  
did not realize just how frightened she was of him until he  
got closer and realized that her entire body was shaking.  
What did Agosto tell her? The truth, probably.  
Dmitry‟s large body completely overshadowed Royal‟s,  
dwarfing her existence in the corner. His size, his presence,  
his past all scared Royal speechless. She thought of the  
dead bloody woman and her heart nearly stopped. Revving  
back, she launched the knife into his arm as he reached for  
her.  
"I told you to stay the fuck away from me!"  
"Shit!" Dmitry said, grabbing his arm. The knife stuck  
out of his bicep muscle.  
Royal tried to run past him, but he snatched the knife  
out of one arm and grabbed her with the other. Fighting,  
she tried to kick away from him, but he picked her up off  
the ground. He held her against her will close to him and  
carried her back upstairs. She screamed as he did, begging  
for help. Grabbing the staircase banister, she tried to hold  
on, but he ripped her away from it.  
The bodyguards stood at the foot of the stairwell downstairs  
watching on as he took her upstairs passed them.  
They were all unsure of what he would do to her considering  
the blood pouring down his arm.  
None of them had ever seen Dmitry interact with a  
woman on this level. No one had ever seen him argue with  
a woman ever.  
Royal screamed as loud as she could and reached out  
for the men to help her as Dmitry carried her against her  
will, but they ignored her pleas. As much as they adored  
her, they knew their orders and their places.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
284  
If Dmitry chose to take her upstairs and kill her, it  
would be none of their business. The most that they would  
be responsible for was getting rid of the body.  
Dmitry carried her crying and kicking to their bedroom  
again and slammed the door. Setting her down on the  
ground, he locked the door. As soon as her feet hit the  
floor, she tried to run to the bathroom. He grabbed her  
quickly. Upset and scared, she tried to slap him, but he  
caught her arm.  
"Stop it," he said sternly. "Stop it right now. I won‟t  
have any more of this. You‟ve gone mad!" He released her.  
"I‟ve gone mad?" Royal asked, pointing at herself. "I‟m  
not the one who has…"  
"Killed someone?" he interrupted. "I‟m not the only  
murderer in this room – just the only one who does not  
judge."  
"I knew at some point you would use that against me."  
There was silence. He looked down at his arm.  
"You killed your own brother‟s wife? That explains  
why he‟s so angry with you. Who would blame him?"  
She could not let the subject go even if it meant her  
own death. She was baffled by the fact that he could keep  
something like that from her; deceive her with such disregard  
for her feelings.  
"I didn‟t want to do it," he said, hitting the wall. A  
small painting fell on the ground and broke apart. Royal  
jumped, startled by his sudden anger.  
"I know that she was my brother‟s wife. That‟s what  
hurts so bad. I had no choice." He tried to explain.  
"Then why did you?"  
"She came to my bed after I found out about one of  
Ivan‟s many side deals, and I was tempted by her and angry  
Dmitry's Closet  
285  
with him. And so," he rubbed his forehead. "I slept with  
her."  
Royal eyed him as he continued. Even in the middle of  
talking about a murder, she was mildly jealous of the  
thought of him being with another woman.  
"I had been with her all that night. Then while I was  
sleeping in my own bed, she tries to kill me with a fucking  
knife. While I was fighting with her, the knife cut her up  
pretty bad. I finally put it to her neck thinking that it would  
calm her down, but she was insane. She pushed against it  
and spit at me as it sliced her neck."  
"You expect me to believe that she helped you kill her."  
"It‟s the truth. No one believes me. She was insane."  
"So Ivan hates you for sleeping with his wife and then  
killing her, and he‟s the bad guy?"  
"Ivan is most definitely the bad guy. He sent her to my  
bed to kill me. Evidently, his love didn‟t run too deep – not  
for me – not for her." He confessed it all without any need  
for probing. "My baby brother. The man that I had raised  
from a baby. I went after him. I was going to end this  
family feud for good, but while I was cutting his throat with  
the same knife Ari had used on me, he swore to me that she  
had acted alone.  
"Normally, I would have finished the job just to be sure,  
but he was my brother and if there was a slim possibility of  
it being true, I could not risk it. So, even though I cut him, I  
took him to hospital. They said that he would be okay.  
And then I left and I came here. I could barely live with  
what I had done, even though it wasn‟t my fault."  
"Is that why I‟m in trouble? Why you wouldn‟t marry  
me?"  
"Yes. I am what I am. I held true to my code, because  
it was all that I had before I had you."  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
286  
"Besides murders connected to your immediate family,  
any others I should know about?"  
Dmitry was silent and unwilling to answer that question.  
So Royal continued. "And the girls aren‟t yours?"  
"No. You know that my mother was prostitute. I  
would never…"  
"And the mafia?"  
"In a matter of days, I will no longer be the head of the  
Vory v Zakone here."  
"Oh my God, Dmitry," Royal said, shaking her head.  
"It‟s true? You‟re like some Don Corleone?"  
"It‟s overblown, trust me."  
Royal was completely flabbergasted, looking at him  
standing by the door with blood dripping down his arm and  
ruining the carpet. She had unknowingly hooked up with  
one of the largest organized crime bosses in the United  
States. What an idiot, she thought to herself.  
Dmitry cleared his throat and shifted a little, trying to  
ignore the pain. He wanted her to say something, anything  
that would let him know that she would stay. He raised his  
eyebrow and sighed.  
"I don‟t want you to leave." His voice was just above a  
whisper.  
"At least you know what you want," Royal crossed her  
arms. "You‟ve been lying to me for months now, Dmitry.  
Why should I stay? I don‟t even know who you really are."  
"I never lied to you," he growled.  
"Bullshit. You lied!" Royal snapped.  
"You‟ll never know everything about me, Royal. It  
doesn‟t work that way."  
"If it can‟t work that way, then I don‟t want to be here."  
"I‟m not a child. I don‟t do ultimatums. You won‟t be  
able to stomp your feet and get your way. I know that I  
Dmitry's Closet  
287  
have spoiled you, but there has to be still some resemblance  
of common sense inside of your head. Look at the life you  
lead. Go on, look around." His voice rose. "What did you  
think that I did for a living?"  
"What you told me that you did! I trusted you enough  
to believe your lies," Royal responded, livid.  
"I never lied to you."  
"Fuck you," Royal said, grabbing her purse. Tears  
started to form at the corners of her eyes again. "You‟re so  
full of it. I don‟t have to stay here and take this."  
"You‟re not leaving until I‟m finished!" Dmitry stood in  
front of the door. He breathed heavily and grabbed his  
arm. "Then…go if you must," he shook his head.  
His words deflated her. She did not want to go, but she  
did want the truth, to be able to trust him.  
"My life is very complicated, and I don‟t ever plan to tell  
everything that I‟ve done. I will not confess my sins at your  
feet. Neither you nor I could take it." His eyes watered  
from the pain. "But I will tell you that I love you, and since  
the day that you said that you‟d be mine; I‟ve made plans to  
spend a quiet, safe life with you. It‟s just going to take time.  
I am what I am, Royal. I‟ve kept that away from you for  
your own good. My kindness to you has been genuine; my  
love for you has been the same, but there is another side of  
me."  
"Which side reigns supreme?"  
"My desire to be rid of this, to live a life with you."  
"Can you just walk away from all of this?"  
"Yes. It‟s just going to take time."  
"How much time, Dmitry? Am I going to have to wait  
until you‟re seventy to really have you? I won‟t kiss the ring,  
man. I didn‟t sign up for this." She turned away.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
288  
Dmitry tamped his anger. "When have I ever asked you  
to wait on me to do anything? I asked you to marry me,  
because I want to be with you. But it‟s good really that you  
know now. You have sometime to truly make your decision  
– now that you know. I just want to ensure that my son is  
left a legacy that is truly worth something regardless of your  
decision. Believe it or not, other people‟s lives are at stake  
here."  
"You want Anatoly to live like this?" she asked angrily,  
turning back around.  
"What I want is not important. The point is that he‟s  
doing it. He‟s a man, and I have to make sure that he is  
taken care of before I go. I owe him that."  
"How do I know that you won‟t go back to living the  
way that you did before?" She sobbed. "It‟s not like I  
would ever really know. I wouldn‟t know now if the FBI  
hadn‟t held me at gun point in the," she kicked the side of  
the bed in frustration. "…freaking tub. I had lasers on my  
body for no damned reason at all, like I was a criminal!"  
"I give you my word, woman." He walked to her slowly.  
"Give me a chance to clean things up. All I need is a  
little time, and we can leave. You told me that you wanted  
to go to Prague, eh. Remember? Well, let‟s go. Let‟s open a  
restaurant and boutique on a cobblestone street in Prague  
and grow old together chasing our little children around."  
The idea rang in her ears. Happiness. A new start.  
"Don‟t sell me lies, Dmitry. I can‟t take it," she cried, as  
he walked closer. She held herself and let the tears fall  
down her face. "I can‟t take it. Damn you."  
"I know, baby. I would never do that to you." He  
walked up to her and held her close. Kissing the top of her  
head, he whispered. "I love you. I love you. I love you."  
Dmitry's Closet  
289  
She cried as she buried her face in his large chest. In  
pain, he wrapped his arms around her.  
"I‟m sorry," he whispered. "For everything that I did,  
I‟m sorry."  
Royal wiped her face off and tried to stop crying after a  
minute. Breaking his embrace, she walked to the door and  
opened it.  
"Get out," she said, pointing out the door.  
"My first night on the couch?" Dmitry asked.  
"You‟ve got like six other bedrooms in this house. I‟m  
sure you‟ll fit in one."  
Dmitry walked to the door where she stood and kissed  
her on the forehead one more time. "So, you‟ll stay?"  
"I need to think about it," she said, looking up at him.  
"Dah, that‟s fair. You think. I‟ll go stitch up my arm."  
Dmitry tried to be understanding of everything that she had  
gone through, plus he knew that she would forgive him. If  
he didn‟t know her that well by now, she would have not  
been in his home. "You want me to have maid come up  
and unpack for you?"  
"No, I‟m not sure that there will be a need to," she said,  
closing the door behind her.

While trying to tend to his arm, Dmitry drank a six pack  
of Foster‟s beer and looked out of the window above the  
sink at the backyard. Anatoly walked back into the kitchen  
from the garage and saw his father over the faucet with  
tweezers, scissors and thread. He sat his keys on the  
counter and walked over.  
"What happened to you?" he asked unmoved.  
"Royal," he answered, pulling the thread through his  
flesh.  
He smacked on his gum. "She stab you?"  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
290  
"Dah,"  
"Why?"  
"She‟s woman," Dmitry groaned, motioning for Anatoly  
to give him the antiseptic.  
"She found out who you were, didn‟t she?"  
"Dah," Dmitry said, pouring the chemical over his  
wound.  
"Well then, you should be glad that she didn‟t shoot  
you." Anatoly walked over to the refrigerator and opened  
the door, chuckling.  
Dmitry shook his head. Anatoly did not know the first  
thing about love. "She‟s a good girl. She was just very  
afraid. I can‟t say that I don‟t blame her," he explained to  
his son.  
Anatoly sifted through the food to find a container of  
chilled oysters. Grabbing the small bowl, he closed the  
door and turned around to look at his father. "Are you sure  
that you‟re ready to do this? To give all of this up for  
woman who is… not even Russian?"  
"You look around and see all these things. I look  
around and see a large fortress, keeping the whole world  
out. I don‟t want to live like this anymore. And yes, I know  
that she‟s a black woman. I‟ve seen more of her than you  
have. I know. I don‟t care about that. I want woman who  
is going to stand by me, even when it‟s in her best interest  
to run. Let‟s not ever forget where we are from, boy. From  
the streets, lower even, from the gutters of the streets. We  
have no room to pass judgment on anyone, especially good  
people."  
"So you‟re saying that she‟s worth it?"Anatoly was still  
not completely convinced. He cracked at his father.  
Dmitry shook his head. "Yes, so get busy. I want this  
transition to happen now."  
Dmitry's Closet  
291  
"The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. We make the  
big announcement then."  
"What time tomorrow."  
"Six on the dot." Anatoly tapped his watch and left the  
room with his bowl of oysters, headed to the entertainment  
room to watch television.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 25  
Dmitry decided instead of sleeping in one of the guest  
rooms to back go to his study. It was his man cave, full of  
reminders of why he had to press forward whenever times  
were hard. He had done it a hundred times before, slept in  
the place he worked. Tonight was no different.  
Relaxed, his long body sprawled out over on the long  
leather sofa with his arms elevated on back of the soft winecolored  
textile, looking up at the ceiling fan circling above  
him. The darkness of the room strangely brought him  
comfort. A world wind of events had taken even him by  
surprise. And while he had not allowed the feds get under  
his skin, Royal had. She was quite exceptional at that.  
It was the painful tears and the scared stare in her face  
that disturbed him most. How did she see him now?  
Would she leave? Would she ever trust him again? He  
loved her dearly and treasured her like no other woman.  
He rubbed his temples and growled. A headache was  
looming over him. He had worried less about murder than  
he did about loving her.  
With his free hand behind his head, propped up on his  
waded up, torn shirt, he listened to the crackling of the  
fireplace and recalled each and every event of the day.  
Reaching over, he grabbed the crystal container off the table  
and winced; the wound reminded him of Royal‟s aching  
heart and bad temper. He laughed a little. She was such a  
firecracker. He poured the last of the brandy in a glass and  
swallowed it quickly. Drinking heavily was not one of his  
releases, but he needed to numb the pain in his arm and his  
heart.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
294  
Closing his tired eyes, he tried to cast his cares away and  
sleep for a few hours when suddenly he heard soft footsteps  
approaching on the marble outside his door. His eyes  
popped open. Royal.  
The door knob twisted slowly, and a light appeared  
from the hallway. She stepped inside cautiously. Dmitry  
lifted his head a little as she made eye contact with him. She  
closed the door behind her and walked towards him. He  
followed the unintentional sway of her full hips and admired  
the silhouette of her body under the silk chemise.  
"I came to see if you were…okay," she whispered,  
kneeling before him. His peering eyes sparkled like diamonds  
at her. Even now, she was in awe of how handsome  
he was.  
Dmitry looked at her for a moment without saying a  
word. She glowed in the darkness of the room. The  
fireplace made her look like an angel. Her hair danced  
about her freely, skin free from make-up and resilient. For  
a moment, he forgot about the pain.  
She took his arm and looked at the dressed wound.  
"I‟m sorry," she said with tears running down her cheeks.  
"I tried to stay up there as long as I could. Even though  
you deserved to be brutally stabbed, I still felt bad about it."  
She fumbled over her words and swallowed hard.  
Dmitry grunted then turned his body to sit up on the  
sofa. His muscular frame flexed as he moved. She stood  
up and stepped back. Dmitry automatically wondered if she  
was still afraid of him. The thought bothered him, frustrated  
him.  
"Come here," he said, waving her to him. She moved  
closer to his body slowly and felt his long arm reach out for  
her waist and pull her to him. He rested his head on her  
stomach and rubbed her bottom.  
Dmitry's Closet  
295  
Royal wiped the tears from her eyes and lifted his head  
where he could see her.  
"Will you forgive me…for stabbing you?" she asked.  
He laughed a little. "Dah." His deep voice filled the  
room. "Will you forgive me for being who I am?" His eyes  
were wide and anxious.  
"Mozhet byt'," she said in a soft voice.  
"Perhaps?" Dmitry smiled. "Well, I guest that‟s better  
than net."  
"Dah," she said again.  
"You know your Russian is very limited for a woman  
who lives with me."  
"I‟m sure I‟ll learn." She nodded.  
Dmitry rubbed her back and ran his hand down her leg.  
He smelled the perfume on her body and signed. "Is this a  
peace offering?" he asked, pulling her closer.  
Royal looked down and rubbed through his hair.  
"Would you like for it to be?"  
"I need it be." He focused on her body.  
"I love you still," she whispered.  
Dmitry‟s stare was carnal. Having drunk too much, he  
forgot his normal carefulness as he reached for the top of  
her gown with his large hands and tore it off. The fabric  
ripped as he pulled it away from her soft skin. The act only  
inflamed him more. His desire for her grew by the moment.  
She was stunned at first but did not move. She gasped  
as he rose over her like a hungry lion. Her naked body was  
vulnerably exposed. She tried to cover herself with her  
hands, but he pulled them away, licking his lips as he drank  
her body in through his eyes. She looked up at him through  
matched hooded eyes ready to accept whatever he wanted  
to give. Everything.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
296  
He moved her hair from her face, off her milky brown  
shoulders to see her better. She was his gift from God.  
He picked her up in his arms and kissed her mouth,  
forcing her to shed her civility. Her long legs locked around  
his waist and closed around his back.  
Carrying her to desk, he pushed the contents to the  
floor, shattering the glass mementos as they hit the ground.  
Papers floated down to the ground around his feet. She sat  
back on the desk and rested her elbows on the surface,  
watching him change from a docile creature to a hunter.  
Dmitry leaned over the desk, in between her legs and  
kissed her lips again, holding her face in his massive hands.  
She moaned under his touch and the pressure of his body  
leaning against her.  
"Don‟t ever be afraid of me," he demanded, pulling her  
to him. Her body jerked. Her long hair fell over on the  
desk. "Don‟t ever think that I would hurt you. I would  
hurt myself first."  
She said nothing. He spread her legs further apart with  
his thighs. Her back arched, and she ran her long nails over  
his bare skin. Sensually, he kissed down her neck to her  
collar bone to her aching nipples. Cupping her warm flesh  
in his mouth, he suckled her.  
Biting her lip, she undulated under his body. She  
wanted him so badly now. Why did he make her wait?  
Dmitry breaths became quicker as she came alive before  
him. Taking both of her large thighs in his hands, he pulled  
her body closer to his steely erection.  
He could feel her long fingers on his pants, forcefully  
pulling them down. They hit the ground and made a jingle  
as his belt buckle hit the floor. He stepped out of them  
quickly and pulled her body to the end of the table.  
Dmitry's Closet  
297  
Lifting her long legs to fit safely on his large shoulders,  
he pushed deep into her body. There was an immediate,  
collective sigh. Instinctively, she tried to pull away from the  
initial sharp strike, but he only gripped the front of her  
knees tighter and kissed the insides of her legs.  
She screamed in unadulterated pleasure, looking at his  
sculpted forearms, his fatless marble frame and the shining  
of his Rolex reflecting in the fire light. It was embarrassing  
to admit how much his power and sex appeal suddenly  
turned her on.  
His tattooed temple pulled back and crashed back into  
her body, bringing her back to the task at hand. She arched  
her back and bit her index finger as she absorbed his  
impact. Pain. Pleasure. Pain. Pleasure. Pleasure. Pleasure.  
Dmitry winced from the twinge of his arm and the ecstasy  
of her eager body. His rhythmic jolts made her bounce  
on the table. Easing her back and forth with his strong  
hands, he felt her begin to shiver. She moaned his name,  
but he would not stop, would not let up. His motions  
became hypnotic; each caress, kiss and thrust was filled with  
heart-felt passion that coupled with lusty exhilaration.  
Royal‟s quiet moans soon became loud screams. The  
shivering became shuddering, and her body convulsed like  
she was the subject of an exorcism. Still he would not  
release her. His face was focused, drowned in sweat, mouth  
open, eyes gleaming like the fire behind them. She eyed  
him curiously of how long he would continue to punish her.  
The anger in his face showed that it could be a while, but  
her body would give out at any moment. When she could  
not take one more jolt, she reached out for him.  
Dmitry allowed her legs to fall to either side of his waist  
as he leaned over the table to kiss her. She sat up to meet  
him. His tongue searched her mouth softly, awakening her  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
298  
senses with every taste. She whimpered in his embrace,  
feeling his large hands search her body, pull and rub at the  
most tender spots.  
Picking her up off the table, he stood up with her on  
top of him. They looked at each other for the first time as  
he held her. Royal saw Dmitry, and Dmitry saw Royal.  
They were no longer strangers, just two people who desired  
more than anything to be together.  
"Hi," she said, biting her lip.  
"Hi," he snaked his tongue out the side of his mouth as  
it watered.  
Royal wiped the sweat from his brow affectionately. He  
had all but destroyed her inside and out. He held her close  
as he made love to her, never taking his eyes of hers. She  
hugged him tightly, submitting to his will. He was far too  
strong of a man to fight and far too good of a lover to stop.  
He continued for a while, standing in the middle of the  
floor with her riding him without ever once shifting.  
Finally falling to the gravity of the earth, she felt her  
body against the plush rug. The world shifted. She went  
from looking at the floor and holding on to his iron grip to  
catching glimpses of the vaulted ceiling. He laid over her,  
connected to her inner core, deep inside of her troubled  
heart.  
Her screams started again and were intermingled with  
Dmitry‟s deep, masculine groans. Tears formed in her eyes  
as he continued. He looked at her with tears in his own  
eyes . In them, there was a glimpse of humility – sorrow for  
the way that he had deceived her. She had never seen him  
cry until tonight. It was frightening to her.  
In the silence of the room, she held him tight as he  
moaned and tensed up, releasing himself into her body. His  
mouth converged on hers in a long, passionate kiss and  
Dmitry's Closet  
299  
deep, frustrated sigh. His deep breaths vibrated against her  
sweaty body. He covered her, hiding her from God and  
man. She looked up at the ceiling beyond his large arm and  
smiled. How could she deny him when he loved her  
beyond words, beyond barriers, beyond life?  
Too weak to move, Royal stayed under him shaking until  
he finally sat up. She breathed free air as he did. On his  
knees in front of her, he wiped the tears quickly from his  
face, embarrassed that she had seen him show so much  
emotion.  
He looked down at her with a now expressionless face  
and then picked her exhausted body up off the ground. She  
closed her eyes and lay against him nearly asleep. Naked, he  
carried her in his wounded arms, up to their bedroom.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 28  
There was complete media frenzy behind the bomb attack  
on Mother Russia and the Medlov compound. Outlets  
from across the nation stood outside of the gates of Dmitry‟  
s home discussing the murder of a young shopkeeper  
and the attempted assassination of a millionaire of questionable  
character with alleged ties to the Vory v Zakone by his  
crime boss brother, Ivan Medlov, who headed the Memphis  
Medlov Organized Crime Family.  
Obviously, the media had it all wrong, which was good  
for the men who had survived the attack and for his son,  
who was now the head of the family, but it was not good  
for his most apparent and haunting dilemma.  
For nearly 15 years, Dmitry avoided his name ever making  
one newspapers regarding his possible connections to  
the mafia, and now his face was splashed across CNN,  
MSNBC and Fox News along with newspapers nationwide.  
He had no choice. He had to leave.  
Three months had passed and although the house repaired  
and the restaurant rebuilt, there were several undercover  
investigations going on by the MPD, FBI, ICE, DEA  
and the IRS. Dmitry was embattled, yet none of his worries  
outweighed the pain he felt for Royal.  
He sat in the back of the limo as it escorted him now to  
the private airstrip, where he had made arrangements to fly  
to Prague to his new luxury villa that awaited him with a full  
staff and a newer life.  
He also had purchased two large storefronts in the middle  
of Prague 1 district, where he had already started a new  
restaurant and an upscale clothing store called Royal Flush,  
just as he had promised her.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
348  
A staff had already been picked and both would be  
open within the week. Besides, he had done everything that  
he could here. Dmitry's Closet and Mother Russia belonged to  
Anatoly now. There was nothing more to fix, no more  
reason to linger.  
"What are you thinking about?" Royal asked, taking off  
her shades.  
Dmitry put his hand on her knee and sighed. "You.  
This is big move so early in your recovery. I‟m not sure that  
you even need to be out of the bed."  
"I‟m ready." She rubbed her growing stomach. "I  
think we both are. This place is just a memory now. It‟s  
time to move and time for you to stop treating me like  
I‟m made of glass."  
The diamonds sparkled from her neck. Dmitry had  
purchased a three-million dollar diamond necklace,  
designed specifically to cover the large knife mark that  
Ivan had left when he tried to claim her life.  
"Prague is a good change. Somewhere new where no  
one knows me or you," she said confidently. "I can feel it.  
Everything is going to be fine."  
Dmitry raised his brow. "They know me, but there is  
no need to worry. I won‟t be boss in Czech Republic. I‟ll  
be shop keeper like you."  
"Well, we‟ll finally have something in common."  
The limo stopped on the airstrip and the driver  
opened the door.  
"Mrs. Medlov," he said, offering his hand.  
"Umm, I never get tired of hearing that name," Royal  
said, taking his hand and smiling.  
"Good, because you‟re going to hear it for the rest of  
your life." Dmitry stepped out after her.  
Dmitry's Closet  
349  
There was not one cloud in the sky, and spring had  
brought fresh clean air, warm weather and unexplainable  
beauty. Memphis was wonderful that way, always offering  
all four seasons in full. Royal would miss that.  
As soon as the sun hit Royal‟s necklace, it lit up the  
airstrip. Dmitry smiled. No matter where she went for  
the rest of her days, he would make sure that her lifestyle  
reflected her name. She would live like a queen. He  
would see to it.  
"Are you sure that you‟re ready to leave this all behind?"  
he asked, straightening his linen suit.  
He stood beside her taller and more hauntingly beautiful  
than ever. His blonde hair brandished streaks of new  
gray. His eyes wore lines beside them where talons of life  
had clawed at his face in the middle of sleepless nights.  
But his heart was warm and content. The love he now  
possessed radiated past the physical and transformed him  
into something one could only admire.  
"Everyone already thinks that I‟m dead thanks to  
Cory and your doctor," Royal said as their bodyguards  
escorted them. "I might as well start a new life."  
He stole a look at his wife. Strong. Beautiful. Resilient.  
She had stood by him until her end. She had  
endured the sins of his life with more dignity than even  
he could, and she had done so at his expense with no  
blame.  
I owe you everything, he thought to himself. It was a  
recurring though lately. His existence was no longer  
complete without her.  
He grabbed her hand and led her to their private jet.  
This was the end of their stories apart and the beginning  
of their one life together. God only knew what was  
in store.  
Latrivia S. Nelson  
350  
Dmitry had been by Royal‟s side the entire time of  
her recovery. Every time that she woke, he was there to  
take care of her – feed her, bathe her, dress her, read to  
her. Every need had been met. Every promise kept. He  
did so with little to no sleep. He barely ate. He never  
stopped worrying.  
He paid the coroner, doctors, lawyers, police and the  
local judges millions to stay out of jail and out of court –  
to keep his secret of Royal‟s survival.  
All that he cared for was her health. It had been his  
dedication that kept her and his blooming daughter alive.  
And it had been New York and Moscow that had  
come in to help the transition go smoothly. He had their  
blessings and therefore their protection. Men came in  
droves from across the world. They replenished the  
ranks and worked faithfully under the Medlov Family‟s  
newest boss.  
Upon her recovery, Dmitry and Royal were married  
in their home with only Cory and Anatoly to witness a  
quaint, private ceremony. She could never again call her  
adopted family or see Renée but the trade was worth it.  
She wished them all well.  
Royal had known no pain after that horrible night  
with Ivan and no greater pleasure than being married to a  
man that seemed to live to provide her complete happiness.  
For weeks after Ivan‟s attack, Royal had been displaced.  
The transfusions, the pain pills, the nightmares  
overwhelmed her. For weeks, she could feel his large  
hands on her body, his tongue in her mouth, his scent on  
her skin. She remembered the thrust of his hips and the  
cut of his blade. But with her healing, resolve had come.  
Dmitry's Closet  
351  
Ivan‟s death had been retribution for his crimes against  
her.  
Royal looked up just in time to see Dmitry lean over  
and kiss her lips softly.  
"Let‟s get the hell out of here, Mrs. Medlov."  
She and her entourage boarded and relaxed as the  
stewardess seated them and prepared the passengers for  
takeoff.  
Quietly, Dmitry sent Anatoly a text. It simply read,  
"From a father to a son, thank you."  
Anatoly smiled as he read it. He sped through the  
streets of Memphis in his father‟s old Mercedes-Benz  
with a new lease on life and a new woman in the passenger  
seat.  
"Good Luck, Papa," he texted back. "I hope that you  
enjoy your new boring life cooking borscht and chasing brats."  
Dmitry smiled and deleted the text.  
"Everything okay, baby?" Royal asked, touching his  
arm.  
"Everything is perfect, sweetheart," he said, grabbing  
the champagne off the tray as the stewardess passed.


End file.
